


From The Beginning

by inquietrooms



Series: To Walk A Mile In Your Shoes [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23832529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquietrooms/pseuds/inquietrooms
Summary: As a final test before the Crisis, the Monitor gathers a group of Oliver's family and friends from all points in time to watch his infamous five years in hell.
Relationships: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance/Tommy Merlyn, Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen/Shado, Sara Lance/Oliver Queen
Series: To Walk A Mile In Your Shoes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717258
Comments: 158
Kudos: 232





	1. Prelude

Detective Quentin Lance runs his fingers through his hair as he looks at the files scattered across his desk, a headache beginning to form behind his eyes. Ever since vigilantes became a normal part of his life, solving crime has became harder, not easier — and he’ll stick by that sentiment. He’s pulling another late night at the station and he can feel the exhaustion of a full day’s work. A hefty exhale escapes him before he piles up his papers, slipping them into their respective file folders. He grabs his jacket off the back of his chair as he stands up, slipping his arms into the sleeves as he heads towards the door.

“Are you heading out?” Lance quickly turns his attention to the voice — his partner.

“Hilton, I thought you left already. Yeah, I’ve got myself stuck in about seventeen different dead ends right now. I’m gonna try again in the morning and hope that’ll help.”

“You’re finally focusing on something other than the Hood business.” Lance huffs in response. Only partially — the cases he’s been trying to solve are ones connected to the Hood and he has only a couple days before Hilton realizes that. “I can look over them before I head out myself?”

“Oh, no, no — it’s late. Head home. Night, Hilton.”

Hilton claps him on the shoulder. “Night, Quentin.” Lance walks out of the station, fresh air filling his lungs for only a moment, before he’s enveloped in a white light.

* * *

“Tommy!” The man brings his attention back to the woman calling his name, expression uncharacteristically inexpressive and stoned over. “Hey, is everything okay?” He follows her movements as she sits next to him on the couch, placing a hand on his knee and rubbing circles with her thumb.

He does his best to force a weak-willed smile. “Yeah.” Ever since he found out Oliver’s secret, things with Laurel haven’t been the same. There’s been this anger inside of him, this jealousy. He wants to yell and scream — his best friend is a murderer! — but he can’t, because Laurel doesn’t know. She can’t know, right? “Just thinking about my dad.” He can tell from the way she’s looking at him that she doesn’t buy it. There’s a guilt in the pit of his stomach from that look and he can’t help but wonder if Oliver feels that feeling anymore, if he ever felt that feeling, if he ever truly cared about lying to them.

“Do you want to talk about it?” aka ‘Do you want to tell the truth?’ A hand closes into an anger-induced fist by his side, jaw clenching.

“No.”

Laurel stiffens at the response, squinting as she yanks her hand from his knee and standing. “Okay.” She steps towards the kitchen. “It’s your choice.”

Tommy opens his mouth to response, whether with an apology or snappy protest, he isn’t sure, but he’s interrupted when a burst of blinding light explodes from where she was standing, Laurel suddenly gone. Words are gone from his throat as he leaps from the couch, only thing he can speak is her name — “Laurel?” That’s less than a second before the same happens to him.

* * *

Thea clicks absentmindedly through the tv channels, her mother propped up in bed next to her. The both of them seemed to have much more troubling things on their minds than the latest episode of The Bachelor or finding a show to watch, but Thea was persistent. After all, this was her job since her mother stuck in bed for the time being and her brother was off doing who knows what, leaving her to be the caretaker.

The tv lands on the middle of an episode of Man Vs. Wild and Thea lets out a quiet snort. “Maybe we can get Ollie to film a reality show. Ollie Vs. The Wild.”

Moira snatches the remote from her daughter’s grasp. “Thea!” The channel is changed, a show neither of the recognized playing in the background.

Thea gently takes the remote back before lowering the volume, shrugging as avoids her mother’s look. “I’m joking, mom. I know, I — at least if he was shooting some reality tv show, we’d know where we was all the time. No more sneaking off, no more late nights — aren’t you tired of it all?” Gaze is finally met, anger faced with motherly compassion.

“Everyone has their secrets, Thea.”

“I guess.” She faces forward again when blinding light is seen out of her peripheral. She snaps her head to the left to find her mother suddenly gone, herself, too, moments later.

* * *

Years in the future, Felicity stares into the baby’s room from the doorway for another moment, eyes glued onto the crib. Ever since Oliver left, the nights have only gotten lonelier and she’s found herself either spending every moment with her daughter or tucked away, trying to distract herself with ideas of projects that she hopes can change the world. That is, when she can pull herself from moping. She turns the light off, the pit in her stomach only dropping even deeper when her daughter leaves her sight, but she pushes through. After another moment, she finds the strength to close the door to the bedroom behind her, looking out into the empty living room.

She was tired, but she didn’t want to lay alone in bed, so she finds herself heading toward the kitchen, grabbing a wine glass from the cabinet. Eyes stare at it, fingernails tapping, a look of contemplation — she just wants to feel whole again. She wants her husband back, the father of her children. Quickly, she wipes at the tear she feels running down her cheek, sniffing, drawing in a shaky breath. She tries to even out her breaths, turning to grab the bottle of wine, when she’s gone in a flash of white light. 

* * *

“Do we have everything?” John asks his son.

Connor looks over the boat, taking mental inventory. “I think so. Let me go check with William.” He steps a bit off to the side, beginning to converse with William and Mia, as John steps aside himself, going to check on Roy where he finds Dinah and Laurel, as well.

Roy was still, understandably, recovering from his injuries from the plane crash. Losing an arm isn’t the sort of thing that one simply bounces back from. John had wished that he would have never had to find out what it was like in the first place, but their job came with risks. As much as he wants to blame himself, Roy already talked to him about it.

He cuts into a light conversation between Dinah and Roy. “I think we’re about to head off. The kids are getting the last of the cargo.” The two gave him a smile and a nod, Laurel giving him only the nod, although he knows there's nothing bitter behind it. 

“Alright, thanks, John.” Dinah responds.

“I’m — ” Roy is cut off by an explosion of white light, followed by another, another —

Before any of them have enough time to truly question it themselves, apart from muttered words of confusion, they’re taken by the same light in quick succession.

* * *

The two had been talking for a while now near the self-made Lian Yu gravesite, Mia’s cheeks wet with tears, and Oliver can’t really say much different for himself. He never used to show this much emotional vulnerability — imagining himself caught crying in front of someone eight years ago is a rarity. Now, it’s been happening weekly, it feels like, but he has so much more on the line. Not only is the universe at stake, but, obviously, that means his family is.

He and his daughter envelope each other in a teary-eyed hug, his vision blurry as he looks over his shoulder. It’s amazing to him how much difference one hug for someone he cares about can make. He smiles to himself. He really has domesticated. Eyes close, arms tightening in for a final squeeze before he lets go, when a blinding light, visible even through closed eyes, jars him — the warmth against him is gone. “Mia?” The name is called out immediately, eyes flying open. He spots Lyla, and then the light takes him.

* * *

As if he had only blinked himself into a different location, he finds himself standing in a room filled with people — people he knows. He rushes over to Mia and William. “You okay?”

They both nod, William speaking up. “What’s going on? Where are we?” Oliver took this moment to fully look around the room and that’s when his heart stopped. Not only is the team there, but Laurel is there — Earth-1 Laurel, their Laurel — and Quentin, and his mom, and Tommy —

“Oliver!” His head swivels at the sound, eyes meeting Felicity’s as she speeds towards him. He wraps her in his arms, throat tight. He thought he was never going to see her again.

Knowing he doesn’t have a lot of time to explain, after brushing the hair from her face, he leans in, whispering, “Mia and William are here. From twenty years in the future.” Felicity jerks to try and look but he gently holds her in place. “I — I know, it’s a lot, but — we also seem to have some visitors from the past.” He pulls back, looking into her eyes. “I’ve missed you.”

“Oliver, I —” she focuses her thoughts, “I’ve missed you. So much.”

Feeling a looming presence behind him, he parts with Felicity, trying hard to ignore the implications of what their past selves seeing him indulge in a relationship with Felicity will do to the timeline. His past self was in enough relationship entanglements. 

“Mr. Queen.”

“Qu —” he clears his throat, “Detective Lance.” He gaze is unsteady, flickering between him, his mother, Tommy, Laurel, Thea, so much younger —

“I’m making my rounds to gather information on what happened. Is there anything you would like to share?” Before he can speak, he hears Laurel — Earth-1, going by the context of what she says.

“You look like me. Why do you look like me?” It’s his unmasked life colliding with his masked life all over again. Was The Monitor’s test seeing whether or not he could maintain low blood pressure in a high stress situation?

Earth-2 Laurel smiles, attempting to keep a cool head, “Because I am you.” Felicity was trying to motion to her to stop explaining, but either she didn’t see or didn’t care. “I’m you from another Earth.”

Dinah stays quiet in the corner with Roy, observing the situation, as Rene takes a step forward, as if unconsciously readying himself for a fight.

Earth-1 Laurel looks around before her gaze lands on Oliver, confused, and he's quick to pick up as of why. She looks younger. He must look older. Moira steps through and he feels that familiar tightness in his throat. "Oliver, what is going on? I was sitting in bed with - with Thea, when suddenly I was here. And who are all these people?"

He knows there's no way to fully explain this to them, not without giving up his secret, and he can't. He sees Tommy staring at him, as if just waiting to catch him in a lie. "It's.." Words trail off for a moment, but then he's saved from explaining, because there's another blinding force of light, sending the entire group to shield their eyes.

"Lyla." John's voice is soft, yet it still has an air of authority behind it. He wants to know why they're there. Oliver can't say he blames him.

Lyla, or rather, the Harbringer, looks over the crowd. "For some of you, this is more confusing than it is for others." Oliver can only imagine she's referring to the, well, uninitiated. He had a hard time taking all this in and he's had experience with the unbelievable. "And for some of you, this next test will bring more pain than others." As her gaze sweeps, Oliver swears that it lingers on him for a moment more. "While you're here, you will be in a state of nonexistence, living in between worlds. You'll find you aren't hungry, thirsty - that you don't feel pain nor do you age. All of this will return when you return, as well."

"What? And we're just supposed to believe some crazy lady in a suit?" Quentin scoffs. "No, I've had enough of my life dictated by suit-wearing crazies. I'm gettin' out of here."

Lyla stares at him. "I'm afraid you have no choice." She looks over at John and Connor. Her appearance softens for a moment, a sign of remorse on her features for how she's had to act thus far before another explosion of light - and she's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha yes i Am writing a "they watch the scenes" fic in the year 2020 quarantine rly do be hitting different huh!!!! but this is jst the prelude, kinda me throwin the idea out there, seeing if anyone is ACTUALLY INTERESTED & then me doing it anywaaaaayy at least for???? a bit bc im committed & have a Bit written & some ideas!!
> 
> \+ yeah im trying to put a spin on it?? so it's not u kno. jst. them watching the scenes. aka im gna try & have interlude chapters where they sorta debrief bc lbr emotionally they're gna need it & also i want this to have actual character & relationship development idk im jst trash don't look at me
> 
> but lmk if ANYONE wants this & if there's specific parts/chars ur hype for bc it's hard to keep track of all these chars so if ppl mention certain chars more they'll be in the forefront of my head ok thank u


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so the bold is like stuff yao fei said that's subtitled !! cool cool & UHHH yeah here's the first chap of ACTUAL reactiony stuff????
> 
> ANYWAY ill keep it short up here more stuff at the end if ur Interested in reading my nonsense rambling

By now, everyone had accepted that they were going to be here until they had fulfilled whatever task they were sent to fulfill, and the second that agreement was met, a panel on one of the walls slid open. Oliver was quick to head for it, ignoring the calls of his worried mother. He wanted this to end. The longer they all spent their time here, the longer his secret was at risk. A strange feeling he hadn't felt in a while. Hands are at his sides, ready to attack any oncoming threat, though he's surprised when he finds there's nothing there in the room. Well, nothing except lines of chairs and a large screen. He begins to check the perimeter when he spots Tommy walking up to him out of his peripheral. He'd much rather take on two dozen men with machetes than an angry Tommy who still believes him to be a cold-blooded murderer.

"This is because of you, isn't it?" Oliver didn't have to say anything, him avoiding eye contact was enough. "Just — get Laurel out safe, okay?"

Tommy begins walking away and Oliver finds himself opening his mouth, but nothing comes out. He's about to resume searching the perimeter when the screen turns on, completely white at first, as if a signal to everyone to sit down. Hesitantly, Oliver obeys, sitting in the last of the few rows, eyeing the back of his mother's head as she and Thea whisper to each other.

_A scene from five years earlier flashes upon the screen — a ship sailing through the storm, the Queen's Gambit._

There was a sudden tenseness in the room, a dread hanging in the air. Moira immediately began searching for Lyla, needing to know the reason for all of this. Meanwhile, Oliver felt his stomach drop, the realization of what they were going to watch washing over him. If he was right, it didn't stop with the Gambit.

_Robert steps back from the radar as as a crew member walks in drenched. "The storm's a category two. The captain's recommending we head back."_

_"Alright, inform the crew."_

“Dad.” The words are breathless from the teen, Moira tightening the grip on her daughter’s hand as the tears well up in her eyes. William, Connor, and Mia all stare confused yet transfixed at the screen. They've heard the stories that the Green Arrow got his start when he was shipwrecked, that he had to spend five treacherous years fighting for his life before he became what he was today. After all, all heroes have an origin story, but it's still strange to see it.

_Oliver steps out into the conversation. "Are we in trouble?"_

Mia couldn't stop the immediate laugh that bubbled from her lips. The idea of her father as a playboy greatly amused her, and from the looks of it, everyone who didn't know Oliver back then was similarly amused.

_Robert glances at Sara as she approaches from one of the cabins. "One of us is." Oliver basks in a smile._

Quentin feels rage build up at that smile. “He’s proud of himself!” The outburst was without control, powered only by the overwhelming emotions felt by seeing his baby girl. E-1 Laurel wanted to scold her father, but from the grin — she couldn’t argue. It sure looked like he was. She just had to try and remind herself that Oliver had changed.

_"Ollie!" Sara covers herself up with her robe upon seeing his father. "Where do you keep the bottle opener on this thing?"_

_Oliver waves a hand. "I'll — I'll be there in a minute, Sara."_

Quentin was glaring at the Queens now, years worth of grief and projected anger bubbling to the surface. Tommy, on the other hand, is conflicted and intrigued. Ever since he found out Oliver’s secret, he’s been angry and confused, wondering what could have turned his friend into a murderer. He supposes he's going to find out, find out whatever Oliver's been trying so hard to hide from them all since he returned home.

_Robert lets out a sigh, stepping towards the younger of the two Queens as Sara retreats into the cabin. "You know, son," he wraps an arm around his shoulder, "that is not going to finish well. For either of them or for you."_

Quentin opens his mouth to snap another time but a teary-eyed Moira snaps quicker. “Don’t. Don’t say another word, Quentin. You and I both lost someone.” He considers it for a moment before stepping down, settling for grumbling under his breath.

William and Mia exchange a look, the realization hitting them both simultaneously that this was their grandfather.

_Lightning flashes and thunder rolls as the scene lands on Oliver and Sara alone in the cabin. "It's getting closer." Sara warns._

It hurt to see her sister so scared. Suddenly all the anger she ever felt towards Oliver felt justified again.

_"That's not very scientific." Oliver teases as he turns around, sipping at his glass of wine._

"I don't know about you, but I'm disgusted," William muttered, earning forms of agreement from the team. Oliver settled back into his chair, rolling his eyes, trying to hide his anxiety for what was to come. Felicity soothingly rubbed a hand on his shoulder.

_"What would you know about science, Mr. Ivy-League-Drop-Out?" She teases back, eyes focused on him as he takes a place next to her on the bed._

“He got in?” John sassed.

_"I happen to know a lot about science." He places the wine glass down as he leans in. "I know about fermentation. I know.. biology." The two lean into a kiss._

Everyone in the room is uncomfortable or angry for their own reasons. Felicity squirms as she watches her husband kiss someone else, meanwhile some are watching their family, John is just plain unimpressed, and where Tommy may have beckoned for a high-five years ago, now he's just bitter. Of course, Oliver gets Laurel; Oliver gets Sara; Oliver gets everything he wants.

_"Laurel's gonna kill me. Oh, she's so gonna kill me."_

_"Your sister will never know. Come here." Oliver grins, throwing her down on the bed as she laughs._

E-1 Laurel squirms, hiding her face in Tommy's shoulder. She yearns for a timeline in which she could have been angry, in which she could have been betrayed and yelled and screamed.

_Thunder and lightning go off at almost the same exact time and suddenly Sara sobers up, a fear obvious in her body language. "Okay, that one was really close."_

_"Sara, we're gonna be fine." He leans down, planting a kiss on her lips when suddenly the champagne glasses tilt, the cabin flipping as the two are thrown to the opposite side of the room._

Everyone draws in a breath. They knew this was coming, but that doesn't make it easier.

_"Sara?" The two seem dazed, but Oliver regains his balance a bit quicker and looks up to find Sara laying on the floor, reaching her hand out for him. The water quickly wells up, taking her away as she screams, Oliver lunging for her with his own hand outstretched. "Sara!"_

E-1 Laurel hugs herself to Tommy even tighter, and for the time being, he ignores the jealousy and anger, because she needs someone. She needs him. He wraps an arm around her, rubbing her back as comfortingly as he can. "Shhh, it's okay." He can see her father staring them down, see the wetness of his eyes, as well, and a look that says, 'Protect my baby girl better than that scumbag.'

_"Sara!" Oliver is barely staying afloat, trying to swim back out to the boat as Dave Hackett from the life raft calls his name. "Sara!" Eventually he climbs aboard the lifeboat when he hears his own name, getting help from his father and Dave to be pulled aboard. He coughs up water for a moment, but when he realizes Sara isn't also aboard, he quickly and frantically races to the edge, as if he's about to go back out there. "No, no!" Robert stops him. "No! Dad, she's out there!"_

E-1 Laurel sniffs, looking up. He looked. He tried. She locks eyes with her father, them both seemingly having the same thought, but her father quickly looks away, dismissing the thought with a gruff mutter under his breath. E-1 Laurel looked up at Tommy from where her head was buried in his shoulder. "He tried to save her, Tommy." Tommy clenches his teeth, eyes trained back on the screen. E-2 Laurel, however, is doing her best to stay expressionless. She knows Sara survived, so why get caught up on it?

_Robert looks at him sadly, exhausted. "She's not there."_

_"Sara!" The call is desperate as he watches the yacht sink._

"Tommy?"

"Yeah, he tried to save her. He's — " he cuts himself off. The Oliver he's watching now is the Oliver from five years ago, not the one sitting in the same room as him. It's the Oliver that he would party until sunrise with. It's the Oliver he would still call his best friend. That Oliver doesn't deserve his bitter remarks. "He did. He would have kept searching, too, if he could. You know Ollie, the stubborn bastard." E-1 Laurel lets out a sharp, muffled laugh before the next words cause it to catch in her throat.

_"She's gone."_

"She's — " Rene found himself cut off by Dinah, who after gave him a pointed stare. After a moment, it seemed to sink in. Sara actually being alive is still in their future.

_Dave Hackett sets up a florescent light above the boat. Oliver and Robert are sat next to each other, Dave sitting on the edge. Wind blows violently. Robert gives his son a bottle of water to drink. "Here, son. Drink."_

Thea was so busy focused on the fact that she was able to see her dad that it wasn't until now that she realized what was wrong. She swallows, looking over her shoulder to her older brother. "Ollie, you said that dad drowned, that — you never said that he made it to the raft. You said you were the only survivor." The team, having found out the truth due to the case that they had to work on the year before, sit anxiously in anticipation. "Ollie. Please." He continues to not say anything.

_Oliver gladly takes the bottle, sipping from it. "What the hell are you doing?" Dave points at the bottle. "That's all we've got!"_

_"If anybody's making it out of here, it's gonna be him!" Robert turns to Oliver, clutching his arm tightly. His voice is suddenly softer, or rather, as soft as it can be to be heard over the wind. "I'm so sorry. I thought I'd have more time. I'm not the man you think I am. I didn't build our city. I failed it. And I wasn't the only one."_

Rene shifts in his seat, lowering his voice so only Dinah and Roy could hear. “Seeing Oliver like this — it’s weird, man.”

Dinah nods, arms crossed as she sinks into her seat. “I know what you mean. It doesn’t help that Lyla seems to have grabbed Quentin from when he was on a warpath and this.. video will expose him.”

Roy pipes in. “After everything, this sort of irony is somehow fitting for Oliver.”

“So is the luck.” Dinah adds, unamused.

_Dave leans weakly on the raft, a knife in his hand. Robert and Oliver sit together, with Oliver tucked under his father's arm. The elder leans in, speaking quietly. "There's not enough for all of us."_

_Oliver weakly opens his eyes, looking up at his father. "Save your strength."_

_"You can survive this, make it home, make it better, right my wrongs, but you got to live through this first. You hear me, Ollie? You hear me, son?" Robert shakes him, trying to get a response._

Quentin finds himself intrigued. What sort of wrongs? Mia and William, however, find themselves uncomfortable with seeing their father like this. They're used to him being the pillar of strength, never giving up, always having a plan, being a man of action.

_Oliver blinks his eyes open. "Just rest, dad." His eyes close again, head lolling to the side in a state of exhaustion. He mutters a response, bringing his son's head towards his lips before gently pushing him to the other side. Robert grabs a gun from within his life vest, pointing it at Dave and pulling the trigger. A gunshot rings as Dave falls into the water and Oliver is suddenly sprung awake, body flushed with adrenaline. "Dad?!"_

The gunshot manages to catch everyone in the room off-guard. Whether or not they knew it was coming, it was disturbing, seeing a man pull a gun on an innocent man. Quentin found himself wanting to call out how that was homicide, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, especially when he saw where it was going. "Mom? Ollie? What's he doing? What's dad doing? Ollie?"

_"Survive." He pulls the gun on himself._

Tommy feels himself tense up. This man was more of a father to himself than his own father ever was. This entire time, he's been too busy being angry at Oliver or trying to help his girlfriend with her sister's grief, but now it's hitting him. The pit that was left when Robert died, when Oliver died. He doesn't realize he's holding his breath. Now it’s E-1 Laurel’s turn to offer the support.

_"No!" A second gunshot sounds._

Thea feels her breath caught in her throat as Moira's hand shakily covers her mouth. She takes a moment before hugging her daughter close to her, vision blurry from the tears.

The scene changes to the island and suddenly it’s all so much more real. This is where Oliver spent the last five years, or so Oliver had wanted people to believe.

_"Hey! Hey! Get away!" Seagulls flock the lifeboat, swarming the covered up body. Oliver, adorning dirtied and ripped clothes, runs toward the scene, still yelling. The closer he gets, the weaker he finds himself, and soon he's coughing from the smell, falling to his knees at the side of the raft._

_"Dad." His hands reach in and grab his fathers for a moment before he has to scramble away, throwing up._

"Ugh, gross." E-2 Laurel mutters under her breath, ignoring the very judgmental glares she got from those that heard it with an aloof shrug.

_Coughing, he returns, still yelling at the birds, arms protectively outstretched across his father's body. After a moment, and with great strain, he lifts his body over his shoulder._

Thea’s eyes flicker about. “What — what’s he doing?” By now, she's learned that asking Oliver directly won't get her results.

Connor looks over to Oliver before speaking, as if he's scared that he'll get scolded or yelled out for commenting on his actions. Not that he entirely blames him — this entire setup is an invasion of privacy. “It looks like he’s burying him.”

_He places him down on top of an outlook overlooking the ocean when he finds a book. He curiously grabs the book, eyeing through the pages only to find them empty except for the front where a symbol is._

Moira feels her anxiety spike at the discovery. Thea looks to her, about to ask another question, but she interrupts. “It was your fathers, sweetheart. I don’t know.” Quentin eyes her, as does Oliver. 

_He tirelessly places a final rock on a makeshift grave, looking over his work for a moment of contemplation, when the sound of an arrow whizzing through the arrow is followed by it piercing his shoulder._

“He — but he was alone!” Thea's commentary makes John realize just how much Oliver lied to his family, to everyone, and as much as he hates to admit it, maybe Oliver had a point. Maybe they were better off living in a world not knowing all the details.

“No, he.. he wasn’t.” The words from E-1 Laurel are soft, her eyebrows knitted together as she recalls the polygraph test. Oliver said he was tortured. Oliver uncomfortably shifts in the back, running a hand through his hair. Just recently he had told his kids that any question they had was on the table, but this wasn't what he meant.

_Oliver yells out in shock, his body processing what just happened, feet stumbling, before he looks down at his shoulder. Vision spots the arrowhead as he yells out again, the pain now doubling, tripling, as he weakens, falling down to his knees, stomach — he looks over his shoulder to see an archer right before he blacks out._

Quentin straightens up immediately at the sight of the archer. The bow and arrow, the hood — it looks familiar, because it’s not just any hood.

_He comes to in a cave, the arrow still lodged in his shoulder. Pain was radiating through his shoulder, his mind foggy, as the archer walks into the cave. "Who are you?" The man lowers his hood. "Why did you shoot me?"_

William is squinting at the screen, a realization dawning over him. "That's Yao Fei." Those that were just on the island and had seen and fought along side Oliver's old friend take a closer look at the raggedy man as they make the same connection. A sort of brief, sad smile flashes on Oliver's lips, but only for a moment, as an acknowledgement to his comment.

_" **To protect you.** "_

Tommy snorts. “Killer job.” E-1 Laurel gives him a pointed glare. “I’m not wrong! Last time I checked, shooting an unarmed person with an arrow is sorta the opposite of protecting them!”

Roy and Rene lean forward to give Oliver an amused look, although he avoids looking at either of them. They both lean back before looking at each other. "You, too?" Roy asks, although he can assume the answer.

"Yeah. I guess we're finding out where Oliver got his bedside manner from." Dinah rolls her eyes at the two.

_The archer offers up some herbs and water. Oliver watches on incredulously, shaking his head. He has no idea what the man is saying. " **Drink.** " He finally gives in, grabbing the herbs, gagging immediately and beginning washing it down when the other takes this moment to start to pull the arrow from his shoulder. Oliver yells out before blacking out once more from the pain._

“Holy shit, man. That was intense.” The more Tommy sees the old Oliver in this Oliver, the more he loosens up, but the more it hurts, because he knows something happened. Or rather, more than one something happened. And it changed him.

"No argument here," Thea murmurs.

_When he comes to, the first thing he notices is that his shoulder is lacking an arrow. The second thing he notices is that the man is asleep. He can escape. As quietly as he can, he stands to his feet, before running out of the cave and into the brush of the island with no sign of stopping. He falls to the ground more than once, feeling the sting of the impact beneath him, but he frantically scrambles up and continues on, too afraid at what risk there is with staying still. Eventually he slows down, the pain from his reopened wound and tired lungs making the call, and carries on at a walk. That's when he hears something, unsure of what, but before he can even begin to process it, a net has enveloped him and hung him up from the trees._

"You really couldn't catch a break, can you?" John observes.

Oliver has a double take. It's been a minute since someone directly acknowledged him. He shifts from where he's sitting, a quiet, hollow laugh. "Not really." 

_He's not sure how long he's been there, but when he wakes up, the first thing he sees is a knife._

"For a dude who says he wants to protect him, he's not all that.." Tommy trails off, unsure of what adjective he's looking for.

"What? You're expecting tea parties and hugs?" Quentin replies. Maybe he's biased in what he thinks about the man based on the fact that he saw him with the hood on, but he's already decided he's not a fan.

_Heart racing in his chest, he jumps back as far away as he can from the knife, jostling his shoulder in the process. " **Fool. This place is too dangerous for any one man to be alone.** " The man steps away from the net, cutting him down from one of the ties to the trees. " **They'll kill you.** " He sounds much more forceful now. Oliver catches his breath as he untangles himself from the net, groaning in pain from the wound in his shoulder._

"Oh, great. That's what we needed. More people on the seemingly deserted island." Thea murmured, trying to hide the worry she held for her brother under a veil of sarcasm. 

_Men check the net, all of them armed and dangerous, wearing a sort of armor that, if the guns weren't a giveaway, definitely shows that they're some sort of military or mercenary type._

The team all shift in their seats a bit. It was weird enough having to fight Oliver's ghosts, but now they have to watch their origin story? 

_Oliver is pulling a photo out of his wallet, a photo of Laurel, when the man walks in with a bird in a cage._

E-1 Laurel feels her heart quicken, a strange sort of unexplained guilt in her stomach as if she should have been able to help Ollie somehow, as if she should have been able to detect through this photo of her that he was alive.

_He places the caged pheasant down beside the man. " **Shengcún.** "_

_Oliver, legs pulled up to his chest, looks over at the caged bird. "What am I supposed to do with that?"_

_" **Shengcún.** " There's more force behind it._

_"Does that mean 'bird'?"_

_" **Shengcún.** " This time it sounds aggressive, almost._

_"I don't speak Chinese!"_

For the first time since they've started, most in the room experiences a collective laugh. Those that knew Oliver before feel a nostalgic pain and those that have only gotten to know him recently are intrigued by this other side of him, a more lighthearted, less darkened side.

_He lets out a breath, staring at the man for a moment longer before turning his attention back to the photo of Laurel. "I'm sorry, Laurel. I'm so sorry."_

E-1 Laurel's breath shakes at those words. Oh, how she wanted to go back in time. She'd save him from that island. Yes, he hurt her and cheated on her, and she's angry, unbelievably so, but comparing this Oliver to the one sitting in the back of the room? The differences, now, she can tell how astronomical they are. It hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK THERE WE GO BOIS !!!! im enjoying writing this a lot !! now the way the format of this fic is gna be is after chaps like this theres gna be like ?? interlude chaps w the chars interacting so we can have Actual char/relationship development wow Cool. but yeah ik not everyone rly.... Cares about that & some ppl are just here for the actual reaction chapters so I APOLOGIZE but i wanted this to be more fleshed out & idk?? realistic??
> 
> ALL OF THAT TO SAY, expect throughout the fic chars to development closer relationships!! & chars to find out things !! (e.g. the past ppl WILL find out oliver has kids !! tht's like an obvious one but i needed an example) SO YEAH idk i hope u guys enjoy this as much as im writing this!! i don't rly have a schedule yet but i also am currently still in online uni courses S O give me a few weeks & then ill have more time to write & ill figure this out !! & by then i'll have a real big backlog (hopefully) SO we can get this goin on a real schedule so
> 
> lastly, i appreciated all of ur comments???? so much oh my gosh im ahhh ur all so kind ?!?! i never expected this fic to get much if ANY attention !! & u guys are ALWAYS free to leave comments abt things u want to see or chars u want to interact bc im still in the process of writing so !!!!
> 
> (some teasers for the next chap, it's the interlude type?? chap & get ready for some quentin/laurel content & then some smoak-queen family Wholesome content)
> 
> OK this is rly long im so sorry if Anyone read this u. u deserve an award


	3. Chapter 3

E-1 Laurel had left the room, quickly and with her head down. Oliver, Tommy, and Quentin all stood up at about the same time to go after her, and in an awkward moment, stared at each other. Oliver, uncomfortable and sensing the tension, sat back down. He felt as if her being upset was his fault, and he wanted to fix that, but then he remembered that she knew him from seven years ago. That would create a whole new problem while he was trying to fix a separate one. As Tommy locked eyes with Quentin, the detective turned and headed off towards his daughter. Tommy took one step forward, beginning to raise his hand, mouth open, before sighing, begrudgingly accepting defeat in the silent exchange.

Laurel ran her hands through her hair, breathing in deep, when her father walked in. "Hey, baby girl." His voice is soft as he approaches. "What's wrong? Don't tell me you're upset over Queen." He tries to add a smile and a gentle laugh to the statement, as if showing how ridiculous that makes it, though he doesn't really know where ridiculous starts and ends these days.

Laurel, eyes wet, looks at him, a ferocity in her stare. "But I am, dad! And.. and I'm happy with Tommy, and I know you don’t approve — ” Quentin doesn’t try to argue. “ You never approved of Ollie and I either, but I did love him, and, like you, I was angry.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “I still am sometimes. I want to blame him and him alone for Sara’s death. At the very least, he cheated on me, but —” A frustrated groan escapes her. “Everything is — it’s confusing! It’s a lot! I thought I had moved on! I have moved on!” She has a desperate look in her eyes. “Right?”

Quentin gingerly approaches her daughter, a gentleness behind his movements. “No, I don’t approve of you and.. Tommy, and I certainly never approved of you and Queen, but —” he stops Laurel from interrupting by placing his hands on her shoulders, “ — but I don’t want to see you like this. And I'm not telling you this from the point of view of a father that disapproves, but from the point of view from a father that loves you — you need to move on."

He wipes a tear from her cheek as she gently nods. "It just hurts, daddy. He kept me with him, and when he came back —" she recalls the sorts of things she had told him.

"You were angry, Laurel, and you had a right to be." As far as he's concerned, that's an opinion that he'll stick by. He knew that Oliver endured horrible things on that island, but that doesn't change what he did before. "He wasn't deserving of any sort of forgiveness just because he was gone."

* * *

Oliver, with body language mirroring his broody expression, has his thoughts disturbed by Felicity leaning onto his shoulder. He lightly smiles as she envelops one of his hands in both of her own. "How are you feeling?"

Oliver ponders the question before shaking his head, dismissing it entirely. "Doesn't matter. The quicker this is over with, the better." He can feel Felicity wanted to counter that, argue that it very much does matter, but she'll save it. She can tell he's exhausted, and pushing him for answers in a room full of people — she's learned enough about Oliver to learn that sometimes it's better to let him go about things his way. After all, relationships are about compromises, right?

She laces his fingers in between her own, her soft hands brushing against his calloused ones in the process. "It seems that whenever there are people missing from the room, the videos won't continue. So, we'll have to wait until Quentin and Laurel get back." Oliver hums in response.

Mia and William, both adorning mischievous smiles, walk and stand in front of the two. Not only are they filled with a sort of indescribable joy at seeing their parents finally together, but they've been discussing some topics inspired by the videos. The parental couple looks at them curiously as William speaks. "We've been trying to figure out what you were like — before." Oliver raises an eyebrow. "And you can't blame us for being curious. You're this hero now. You were mayor. And you — you were so much different back then."

Mia chimes in. " — and a playboy."

William nods. "A playboy who grew quite the head of hair."

"There weren't exactly barbers on Lian Yu." Oliver countered.

"But there were in Russia, and we saw your Russia hair. Anatoly gave us the photo, remember?" Mia responded, playfully smug.

Oliver's lips shut in a thin line. He wanted to argue but they weren't exactly wrong. "I couldn't be recognized. It — helped." That was a bad excuse. He had people there who knew his name. Hearing his very lame retort, his children decided, rightfully so, that they won going by the content looks on their faces.

This entire time a smile has been on Felicity’s face. “I still think you were cute with your playboy hair.”

Oliver recalls the memory of Felicity complimenting the photo of him in his mother’s office. “Oh, I know.”

Before Felicity can question him further, the kids chime in with more questions of their own. “Hair aside, what were you like?” William asks.

"Where I'm from, they don't mention that anymore.” Mia adds. “Everything is, well," she lowers her voice, "the Green Arrow is stories at this point. People definitely aren't going around telling your exploits."

At first, all he can do is let out a chuckle. Leave it up to them to get a laugh out of him in a time like this. "Well, that's mostly because I don't go around bragging about the type of man I was before the island. I was sort of a selfish, irresponsible ass." He had multiple arrests under his belt, numerous scandals. He was far from being any sort of role model.

"Do you miss it?" Mia asks curiously. "No responsibility. Doing whatever you wanted."

"Uh, no. I was.. a lot different back then. I.. lost a lot, sure, but I gained a lot, and.. I think the trade was worth it. I'm not saying that I'm always at peace with how I got from A to B," there's a sort of haunted look in his eyes for a moment, his gaze flickering to the screen before he looks back to his kids, hold adjusting around Felicity's hand, "but I did get to point B, and that's important to me. I'm proud of you guys, and that means more to me than anything." There's a soft smile on his face as Felicity leans into his side.

"Wow, dad, you've gotten soft." William jokes, but there's a tenderness to his voice. Mia smiles, too, before elbowing her brother and motioning for him to follow her back to where they were conversing before. Oliver's sure they expected more of a jokey conversation, but he can't help but show the love and pride he has for his family sometimes, especially knowing that the days he has with them is so limited.

* * *

She's about to step back into the main room again when she remembers the lookalike. "Dad, hold on, did you — did you see her? The me — the other me." The resemblance was uncanny. The facial features were eerily identical. Even her voice was like hers. The only difference was the way she dressed and styled her hair — shorter and dyed white. "She claimed she was from another Earth. That she was me, but.." Her voice trails off, looking towards her dad in the desperation that he would hold answers, however unlikely that is.

Quentin had seen the other, dare he say it, Laurel. It made him uncomfortable, to say the least. Should he be surprised, at this point? She was hanging out with Queen and his merry band of weirdos or whatever he wants to call Queen's friends. There were numerous faces out there he had never seen before, faces that were acting chummy with Queen as if they were lifelong friends, so how come he had never heard about them? Sure, he wasn't close with Queen, but he had been around the guy long enough that he felt he would have at least seen these characters.

"That's crazy talk, Laurel. There's no way she's from another Earth. Do you hear yourself? There has to be some explanation for it. I don't know — some weird one in a billion chance of meeting someone that looks similar to you. But don't let her get in your head, alright, sweetheart?" He tries to be comforting, even though he's barely comforted by the words. He knows his best shot is probably asking the lookalike herself what's up, but he doesn't want to get her the time of day. She stole his daughter's face as far as he's concerned.

Laurel nods. "Yeah, you're — you're probably right." Although, she doesn't sound too convinced. Her gut feeling is telling her something different. After all, the bar for normalcy has been adjusted considering they were abducted by a flash of light and some strange lady in a suit.

Quentin does his best to give her a reassuring smile. "Come here, baby girl." Laurel gladly accepts the hug. Everything about this has been beyond weird. She's happy to welcome any familiarity. "You ready to go back in?" She nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, as mentioned before, still doing classes!! in fact im supposed to be writing a five page essay rn. its due. uh. TODAY. at midnight. its abt russia. i AM dying. i have less than a week more & then i'll be !! hopefully writing a lot more & posting on a schedule. thank u guys sm for all ur comments, it's so nice & rly encourages me to post more haha, i was gna wait until tmrw but u guys have been too KIND
> 
> lmk what u think abt this !! since this is the first interlude-y type chapter!! i hope this isn't too Strange of a Format but anyway !! hope u enjoy (even tho it Is shorter)


	4. Chapter 4

_The man is roasting some meat above an open fire. "What is that?" Oliver slowly gets to his feet, the effort it takes to do so evident in his voice. "I'm so hungry." He starts walking over. "It smells pretty good." A hand reaches out, but before he can get close, the other knocks him to his back with just one arm. Oliver yells out, groaning when he hits the cave floor. "Hey, fine. Don't share."_

"Tough love." John remarks, a chuckle accompanying his words.

_"Hey." The man points at the bird before making the motion of snapping its neck. " **Shengcún.** "_

"Why couldn't he do it? He clearly knew how." Thea pointed out.

"He wanted to make sure he knew how to.." Dinah, recalling the subtitled word the archer had been saying, continued, "survive on his own."

_Oliver looks back at the chirping pheasant. "I'm not gonna kill the bird."_

_The man lets out a breath that seems like a short laugh. " **Shengcún.** " He takes a bite of his own food._

_Oliver is staring at the bird before turning his gaze to the other. "Hey, please. I'm starving. I've never killed anything before.” It's after he sees he's really not getting anymore help from him that he helps his wounded arm down and wrangles up the bird, holding it securely in both hands. He stares down at it, an evident sadness. "I'm sorry."_

John thinks back to the Oliver he met within his first year, comparing that man to the man on the screen. That man could kill and make it look like there was no remorse behind the action and this man is shaken up by the idea of killing an animal.

_Eyes are focused upwards, expression contorted. Oliver chokes back a sound as he does the job, pausing before looking down at his shaking hands._

The words sound so desperate and small, nothing like that of a bow and arrow wielding murderer, Tommy thinks. Does that mean it would be possible for him too to undergo some sort of crucible that would transform him from the man he is now to some cold-blooded killer? The thought unsettles him.

William leans over to his sister, voice quiet, trying to ease the tension with a joke. “I guess there was a time when you could have beat dad in a cage fight.” A small smile teases her lips as she playfully punches him in the arm.

_He greedily eats at the meat as the man sits across from him. " **Shengcún.** "_

_"Yeah. Bird. I know."_

_" **Shengcún** not mean bird. Shengcún mean survive."_

_A moment of realization dawns on Oliver as the man talks, eyes slowly looking up at him. "You speak English?"_

Tommy's mouth falls open. "Dude, not cool! I would have been so pissed!"

Oliver snorts. “I was.” Tommy hesitantly looks back before returning his focus to the screen.

_"You won't survive this place. Bird not last thing you kill." The man pulls the photo of Laurel out of his wallet. "And forget her. You look at that all day, you not survive this place."_

Quentin spares a look at his daughter whose gaze falls at those words, remembering their past conversation.

_An arrow flies through the air, striking a rabbit down with perfect precision. "Dinner."_

_"Aw, c — hey — I got an idea. Why don't you let me shoot that thing," Oliver waves a hand at the bow, "and you can go pick up the bloody, dead, disgusting animal." Yao Fei juts the bow in his face. "What?"_

Now, this definitely has the team’s attention. They all know Oliver from after he developed his skills, so they’re itching to see whether or not he was a natural.

_"Try. Breathe. Everything breathe. Breathe. Aim. Fire." He hands over the bow and one arrow. "Aim that tree." Oliver sets the arrow, beginning to pull back on the drawstring. "Breathe." The arrow fires, veering right and horribly missing the target._

Oliver ignores the amused looks from his team. Mia, however, feels relief. She’s always felt this pressure to live up to her father’s standards. The idea that he started out some clueless playboy with zero survival skills gives her hope that she can one day reach his level.

Quentin folds his arms, suspicious. If this hooded man teaches him how to shoot a bow and arrow, maybe he was right after all in his suspicions from earlier this year. At the very least, if Queen isn't the Hood, this Yao Fei character is, meaning Queen knows him.

_Oliver looks on, expression flat, as the other lets out a sobered laugh, speaking a sentence in Chinese._

_"What does that mean?"_

_"You will die badly." Oliver's mouth falls agape as if to protest._

"I like him." Tommy comments, a quiet chuckle following his words. He gets a few glares. "What?"

_"Get." He continues to throw his silent fit before handing back the bow, trudging towards where the rabbit was when suddenly a man clad in black gear jumps out, clamping a hand over his mouth. Another grabs him from the other side._

Felicity winces, whispering into his shoulder, poking him for emphasis. "This is why we have a team."

_Together, the two men drag him to a pit. They kick him down to his knees before shoving him in, his hands bound. "Wait! Wait! You can't leave me here! Don't do this to me! Please!" Oliver grabs a hold of the barred cage with his hands and the man smashes them with the butt of his gun. He yells out of in pain. "Please! I didn't do anything!"_

"But the other guy did, right?" Quentin’s not sure who he's asking for confirmation from. Maybe checking to see if anyone is on the same page as him, proof that nothing good comes from a guy wearing a hood. He gets silence in response.

_He's walked into a camp by two of the masked men who shoved his wounded shoulder into a pole. Oliver groans in pain as the man who seems to be in charge speaks up. "Please, sit. You're making me feel rude."_

“Oh, this dude?” Rene groans. “Why does he always look so smug?”

E-2 Laurel snorts. “I don’t know, but I’m glad I got to kick his men’s asses.” Dinah can’t help the creeping smile in response to her words.

_Oliver looks up before slowly sitting down. "I do apologize for my men's treatment of you." He opens a can, pouring an ice cold beverage._

"That's just mean." Felicity states.

_"They're trained to view any stranger as hostile. I'm Edward Fyers, by the way. And you are?"_

_After breaking his gaze with the beverage, he looks up at the man. "I'm Oliver Queen. I'm shipwrecked. I don't for how long. My family has money. They have lots of money. You would be — you'd be really well compensated for my rescue."_

Moira's heart breaks at how desperate her son sounds. If they knew he was alive, if they knew he was out there, there was no amount they wouldn't be willing to pay. He was right.

_"Well, I look forward to that, but for the moment, let's just talk."_

_"About what?"_

_"Well, for instance." Fyers turns, grabbing a photo off from a surface behind him. "This gentleman. Do you know him?"_

"What does he want with him?" Thea questioned. Everyone stayed silent, either clueless or working on their own theories.

_"No."_

_"No?"_

_"No. Wh — Who's he?"_

E-2 Laurel turns toward Oliver. “You barely knew him. You..” Words trail off. She’s been trying real hard at this hero thing, but sometimes, seeing situations like this, her old habits want to trickle back in. She wants to take the easy way. Oliver stays silent, watching her as she seems to come to her own conclusion, settling back in her seat with her arms crossed.

_"You're a poor liar." Fyers smiles a bit before tightening his lips as he slides the photo between them, facing Oliver, folding his arms across his chest. "I've been polite. I'll offer you one more chance before my manners leave me."_

Quentin had to admit, he was impressed. There was a sort of honor and loyalty he never expected the playboy billionaire to have being expressed here, especially in such dire circumstances, and for a man, like the doppelgänger of his daughter stated, he barely knew.

_"Hey, hey." Oliver leans forward, a desperate plea in both his verbal and physical language. "I don't know this guy. I — I thought I was on this island all by myself."_

_"Do you know what this island is named?" Oliver shakes his head, on edge. "We're on Lian Yu, Mandarin for Purgatory," Fyers leans forward, very clearly making a threat, "and I can make it feel like hell."_

The threat sends a shiver down E-1 Laurel's spine. Ever since she remembered what Oliver said during the polygraph, she's been living in fear of seeing it, and now she's afraid she just might. She doesn't know if she could have lived through this like he did.

_Fyers stands to his feet, grabbing his drink. "I don't know why you're protecting him. You're young. Foolish. Perhaps you don't know why either. Think on that when you're begging for death." Oliver keeps his gaze trained forward as Fyers exits the tent, up until he speaks once more. "He's yours now." That makes Oliver turn around._

_A tall, sturdy man with a two-colored mask walks in, weapons adorning his entire getup._

Connor sits up straight, immediately recognizing the type of mask that it is. He’s seen his brother wear a similar mask enough times. Mia and William have a similar reaction having run into the Deathstrokes, confused — is this the origin of the Deathstrokes?

_Oliver stares at him, and through his mask, he can feel him staring back._

E-1 Laurel’s suspicions are answered as she spares her father a glance. She can tell he's putting the pieces together, as well. She spots a tension in his expression, as if he's just as upset about it as she is. That relieves her a bit, knowing that her dad's resentment allows for humanity. She loves her father, but sometimes his hatred of Oliver crosses lines.

_Oliver is tied to the wooden pole in the tent, breaths quick, heart pounding in his chest. Fyers holds up the photo of the man who saved him. "Where can I find the man in this picture?" He keeps his mouth shut and Fyers motions to his muscle. Oliver feels the metal press against his skin, but soon all he can focus on is the pain. A scream tears through his throat as the blade slices his skin. Metal rips through skin at an agonizing pace. Blood stains the fabric of his shirt. The only time he gets a break is when the blade is finding a new location on his chest or abdomen._

Oliver, rather unconsciously, brings a hand to rub at one of the scars he obtained that day, as if it’s actively hurting. His face is contorted, mind running quick with thoughts.

No one really knows what to say as the scene plays out. There are no words for when you're watching someone you care about be tortured. Quentin, though, finds himself impressed once more — and admittedly horrified. He always had an idea of what the Queen kid was like, but he supposes, as much as he hated to admit it, he could have been wrong. At least slightly. Not entirely. Or so he’s trying to tell himself. Thea is thinking back to when she walked in on her brother changing his shirt, spotting some scarring — a lot of scarring, and as much as she hates to think about it, this interaction doesn't fulfill all of those scars. Rene looks away from the screen. When he was tortured, it changed him, but at least he had some sort of field training. For Oliver, this is his training.

_Finally, it all stops, his head is lolling forward, chest heaving with rasped breaths. "Amazing. You have resolve I didn't credit you for." Oliver stares at him. "Or perhaps, he truly doesn't know anything. Yes." He turns toward the other. "You should put him out of his misery." Fyers is heading for the tent's exit when he's knocked to the ground._

_The man from before bursts in, shooting two arrows. One shoots Oliver down while the other is aimed at the man adorning the two-colored mask only for it to be caught and broken._

Tommy blinks, in awe at the move. “That.. was cool. I mean, I know — bad guy, but — cool.”

_The two break out in a fight, throwing attacks back and forth, before Yao Fei bests the masked man, helping Oliver to his feet and out of the camp._

Connor figures he could answer the question himself from context, but opts for asking Mia. “Are all five years like this?”

Mia, taking a moment to compose herself, turns to face him. “He doesn’t even spend the whole five years here. I know he was in Russia at some point. Hong Kong, too, but something tells me that doesn’t mean it gets better.”

_They make it to the cave where Oliver groans in pain as he lies down. "I tell you, island dangerous, but you not tell them where to find me. You stronger than I thought. Take it. I lead them off." He dangles a small bag above Oliver, which the injured man takes. "Remember, everything breathe. You breathe, you survive here longer." Oliver struggles to sit, to try and stand as the other heads out the cave opening._

_"I'm coming with you — " He's cut off as a large boulder falls in front of the entrance, trapping him inside._

Oliver, having been fiddling for quite some time now, finally breaks and stands, heading out of the room. He just needs to get away, away from prying eyes. He needs a break. He's sure he heard his name as he stepped out, but it isn't enough to keep him there. In the other room, John is getting to his feet, heading out before Oliver's mother has a chance to make it there first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im in the middle of writing yet another essay abt russia .... my Third essay abt russia in a WEEK. classes rly be like that. THAT ASIDE !! new chap, hope u chaps like it. ive been thinking more abt long term plotting & its got me rly excited for planning these stories out (aka how im gna span this stuff out over five books?? since theres five years) so DON'T WORRY at some point i've probably planned for whatever u want to happen .... To Happen it jst might take a hot sec (bt still feel free to keep commenting things u want to see i love Input)
> 
> i almost have all of the s1 flashbacks written out tho!! bc the way i write this story (since i already have 2/3 chaps written ahead from this point) is i write the flashbacks, cut it into segments that i like, & then i go through chronologically & have the gang react + fit in the filler chaps. it jst has a better flow that way
> 
> A N Y W A Y, like i said, hope u guys liked it!! & i hope u had a good weekend!!


	5. Chapter 5

E-1 Laurel watches Oliver leave, gaze lingering on the doorway even after she can no longer see any trace of him. "Hey." Laurel snaps her focus towards the voice, towards Tommy. "I'm.. I'm worried about Oliver, too." She sees the way the sentiment isn't quite all the way there. She doesn't think it's a lie, but — there's something else there, something holding him back. "But he survived this once. He can survive it again."

"But he shouldn't have to, Tommy. This isn't healthy. Anyone could tell you that. Reliving this," she gestures towards the screen, words failing her. She's watched Oliver get shot with an arrow, kidnapped, tortured, and it's only just begun. "No wonder Oliver changed, Tommy. No wonder he's different. Anyone would be."

Tommy's expression hardens at that. "How much would you allow Oliver to get away with just because he — he went through something terrible? I'm not saying that it — that it wasn't. It was. But if we allowed every horrible thing to make okay more horrible things — you're a lawyer, Laurel. Would that stand in court?"

Laurel searches his eyes, trying to figure out where all of this is coming from. If anyone has a reason to be angry with Oliver, it's her. She has years of built up rage, but she's done her best to work through that. Tommy — what does he suddenly have against the castaway playboy? "What is up with you, Tommy?" He doesn't respond. "Look, all I'm saying is — when he came back, he needed our help, but instead he just went back to trying to act like the same old Ollie we knew. But he wasn't. He was.. hurting. And no, that doesn't mean that everything wrong he's ever done should be forgiven, but we should have tried harder. It shouldn't have taken us literally watching him get tortured to know that our friend is hurting, Tommy."

There's hesitation in the act, but Tommy shakes his head, sitting back in his seat. It's not as if he stopped caring for his friend. As much as he wants to, he can't — and maybe that's the problem. There's two sides of him at war here. The part that more than anything wants to hug his best friend and help him through whatever darkness lingers within him and the part that can't get rid of the jealousy, the betrayal, the disgust, the fear. He knows Oliver's capabilities. He may have started off a defenseless playboy on that island, but he didn't leave it as one.

* * *

Oliver’s heart is pounding against his chest, breathing quick as he puts his back up against a wall. He feels as if he might just vomit. He leans forward, placing his hands on his knees, doing his best to control his breathing. It’s been such a long time since he has felt this utterly helpless about what happened to the island, but seeing the events in such clear detail, it’s almost as if he was back there. He can remember everything. Everything from the pain of the blade to the pain of losing Yao Fei, Slade, Shado, Sara — all of the pain he was dealt on that island is weaved so closely together, it's difficult to feel one pain and not feel another.

He hears a voice and it takes him a moment, but he opens his eyes to see John standing in front of him. Oliver does his best to compose himself, bring himself to the present. "Oliver, you okay, man?" Oliver deals him a look that lets him know they both know the answer to that question. "What's on your mind?"

Oliver lets out a shaky breath, closing his eyes for another second. "Everything." John continues looking at him, prodding him for more information. "I mean, the Monitor is making me relive what was some of the worst years of my life." He lets out a laugh, maneuvering so he's sitting against the wall. "Maybe — maybe I could have dealt with that, but he had to bring you along. Felicity. My kids. My family. Not just that, but — it's my mom and sister and.. Laurel and Quentin — before they knew. This is their first impression. Apart from what they know of the Hood in the news, they're going to see me slowly turn into.." Oliver doesn't say it, but John knows that the words he would use to describe what he became during those five years — they wouldn't be nice.

“Tommy already thinks I’m a cold-blooded killer. What’s he going to think after he sees what that island turns me into? Or Hong Kong? Or Russia? — And Laurel and Quentin are going to have to watch Sara go through.. her own crucible just to think she’s still dead.” As Oliver bows his head, clearly catching a breath before continuing, John sits down next to him, a sympathetic look in his eyes. “And my mom and — Thea.. I don’t want them to see those parts of me. It’s why I stayed so far away. It’s why, after I came back, I wore a hood. I know my secret is out in the open now, but it wasn’t for them — and it’s complicated.”

John observes his friend as his shoulders sag, an exhausted breath falling from his lips. He’s sure he has more to say — and he’s sure he’ll hear about it — but John wants to try and get some reassuring words in before Oliver can continue on the path he’s on. “There’s no reason you can’t explain to them who you are now, Oliver. You have your whole team backing you. You have a wife — kids — if that’s not enough to show you’ve changed, I don’t know what is.”

His words are met with silence, and John is about to get up, leave Oliver to his brooding for a few minutes and let him process this on his own, but then he speaks again, voice small. “They're going to look at me like I'm a monster, John." And at that, John's heart breaks. He's been with Oliver since just about the beginning of his crusade. He's well-aware of how he's struggled with how he views himself. Over the years, though, he's made a lot of progress — he's come far from the man he partnered with that first year. However, he can tell that he's back-peddling.

"Oliver, look at me." He doesn't continue until the stubborn man beside him follows the orders. "What you did during those five years don't define you as a person. It defines a very complicated, dark part of your life, do you understand?" Oliver doesn't show any sign that he has so John keeps going. "When we were first working together, I had trouble with your methods, I didn't understand why you did things the way you did them, but then — you changed. You grew. And I learned more about you. It made things.. make sense." Oliver's gaze finally reaches John's eyes. "I now see a soldier who has gone through hell and back who has spent every day day for the past eight years making sure no one will have to feel the way he felt. That's why you're a good man, Oliver, and when the time comes, I'll help them see it." John smiles, placing a hand on Oliver's shoulder. "I'll always have your back, man. You know this."

Oliver nods, returning a small smile. "You always know what to say."

* * *

Moira looks unsatisfied with the fact that her son’s driver followed after Oliver instead of her or Thea — even Laurel or Tommy would leave her more comforted. Instead, a man paid to be around him made sure he was the first in line to follow after her son. Her gaze is trained on the doorway, curiosity nipping at her as she wonders what's going on behind the closed door. A voice in her head is telling her that any minute now, Oliver will shove the driver out and it will be her time to make her way in. Then again, the more she thinks about it, ever since they've all arrived her, Oliver has shown a surprising amount of fondness towards not only his driver — a Mr. John Diggle, if she remembers correctly — but a number of other people, people she had never seen before. When had he found time to form such close bonds to these people? Moira misses when the only mystery she had regarding her son is which girl she had to worry about running into as she tip toed out of their home.

She's pulled out of her thoughts by a timid, "Mrs. Queen?" Head swivels around in front of her, spotting an uncomfortable-looking blonde. She recalls her sitting next to Oliver in the back — on top of that, she looks familiar, but she can't quite place from where. Moira stands, using a hand to guide the blonde — she lets out a small "Oh!" as she does so — to a corner in the room so they can have a little bit of privacy. "Uhm, Mrs. Queen, I just — "

"Felicity Smoak," the name hits her suddenly as she remembers. This is the woman that had approached her too many times about her shady dealings. This is the woman that told Oliver the truth about Thea's father. Why did she think it appropriate to approach her?

Felicity nods. It's strange. She's stood up against murderers, against Diaz, yet the woman in front of her has her heart thundering, hands shaking. She knows Moira Queen is capable. She also knows this woman is Oliver's mother. "Mrs. Queen, I wanted to clear some things up with you." She knows that the other has a very keen sense of observation. She was able to piece together that Oliver was the Hood, that Felicity had feelings for him — it's only right that she come clean about her and Oliver's relationship. She takes a a few controlled breaths, contemplating how to go about this.

"You're here to tell me that you and my son are together, correct?"

The sentence just about about knocks the air out of her lungs. She shouldn't be surprised she knows. She and Oliver hadn't exactly been secret about it if the affection in plain sight is any indication. "If I say 'yes', are you going to kill me?"

Moira looks her over again. "All I've ever wanted for my son is someone that cares about him and loves him, someone that will not hurt him." Felicity stands her ground. "I know you and I haven't always gotten along, but if you think you can provide that, and you bring my son the happiness he deserves, then I'm willing to let you have a shot." Felicity moves to respond, but Moira takes a threatening step closer, gaze burning. "Are we clear?"

Felicity nods. "Yes, Mrs. Queen. And for the record, I love your son. A lot. And I would do absolutely anything in my power to keep him safe." She looks over her shoulder towards the doorway where Oliver currently resides. "Anything."

* * *

Oliver's only a step into the main room when he's bombarded with the presence of Laurel, E-1 Laurel. Somehow she's become significantly more threatening to him than the alternate world version of her. John gives him a look, as if asking him if this is going to be too much, but Oliver gives him a nod before facing the other, a smile on his face. "Uh, Laurel. Hey." He tries to figure out what she could be there to ask him — there's always E-2 Laurel, a question he's sure is burning a hole into her skull. There's the obvious questions about what they've been watching. He calms his thoughts.

"Why is Tommy mad at you?"

Now, that question wasn't at all what he was expecting. It leaves him staring at the brunette with a guilty ache in his chest. The illogical side of his brain wants to take over, spit out that he's a monster, why wouldn't he be mad? But he overpowers it. He and John just talked about this. "I don't know what you're talking about, Laurel. Tom — Tommy's mad at me?" Playing dumb, great. That was his best idea. To be fair, it's hard enough talking to Laurel — this Laurel. He's missed her. On top of that, they're talking about Tommy of all things.

Laurel folds her arms over her chest. "Yes, and I — " She softens in her approach, sighing, arms falling back down. "We've watched you go through.. terrible things, Ollie, and yet, it's like he has something out for you." At that, there's an empty sort of feeling in the pit of his stomach, a hopelessness. John told him that learning about him, his past, made things make sense, but if Tommy isn't budging — what if he continues to hate him? Will Tommy only ever see him as some cold-blooded killer? "Ollie?"

Oliver looks back up at Laurel. "Uhm, yeah, uh — I mean, I don't know. Things have been.. weird since.. he quit. " He can tell Laurel doesn't fully buy it. She's always been too smart for her own good. Though, to be fair, he hasn't exactly shown any award-worthy acting. "Well, I'm going to go sit down."

"Over there?" She refers to the back of the room, whereas she had been sitting more in the front.

"Yes. Over there."

"With your.. girlfriend?" The word is slowly tested.

Oliver nods. "Yes. My girlfriend. It was nice talking to you, Laurel. I'm going to go now." The second he turns away from her, he physically feels the muscles in his body relax. He makes his way towards Felicity, sitting down with a sigh. "Laurel knows we're together." It's whispered quickly, knowing any second the videos could start again.

"Yes, as does Moira."

"What?"

Felicity flashes a stiff smile, hands folded in her lap, before turning forward, videos resuming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had sm fun writing this chapter w awkward oliver "i'm going to go now" me too ollie. but !! laurel & moira found out abt ollie & felicity !! .... sorta .... they r closer than they were at least haha, & also @ tommy pls i Love you stop being so stubborn but lmk what you think !!
> 
> additionally, happy mother's day to everyone not in the uk!! i think. EITHER WAY for ppl who have it tmrw/on the 10th, happy mother's day!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for suicide in this chap.

_Oliver's alone, curled up near a quickly dying fire, when he rips out a page of his father's notebook to kept it lit. It's a second later that his father is grabbing him by the arm, springing Oliver to his feet. "Dad?"_

_The two stand there, tension thick between them. "You died."_

"Wow, people coming back to life is just a normal Tuesday for you, isn't it?" E-2 Laurel delivers in a deadpan voice, gathering strange looks from those not in the circle.

Oliver, used to her snarky comments by now, looks over to her. "He didn't come back to life." But he couldn't argue that she was wrong exactly. Playing with death is more common place than he thought it would ever be in his life.

_"I asked you — I begged you to survive, but if you don't think you can, there's still one bullet left." Robert pulls the gun he used on the life raft from the back of his pants, walking forward as he holds it out. Oliver looks down for a moment before reaching out and grabbing it. "But Oliver, my death is made meaningless by yours." Robert unhands the gun, leaving it entirely in the younger's grip._

_The gun is brought to his side. "I'm starving. I'm going to die anyway, and I just want it to be quick. I want it to be quick like — like yours was."_

A discomfort sits within the room, muscles tense. Something this personal and vulnerable being shown leaves the room mostly horrified. Felicity gently holds her husband's hand in her own. 

_"You can survive this."_

_Tears have welled up in the younger Queen's eyes as his grip adjusts on the gun. "No, I can't. I'm not as strong as you think I am. And I'm sorry." The gun is brought to his temple, finger on the trigger, just for a click to be the only sound when he actually pulls it._

Just the image of his best friend with an actual gun to his head is enough to send chills down Tommy's spine. He can tell Laurel isn't handling this any better than he is.

_He jerks the gun away from his head in realization, breathing heavily, before throwing the gun to the ground. "Of course it doesn't work. I'm hallucinating. Or I'm dreaming."_

_"But if you weren't, you betrayed me, Oliver. I died so that you could live, and you threw that gift away. You made that sacrifice empty."_

John knew that Oliver took his father's mission seriously, took his father's sacrifice seriously, but seeing this — it gives him a whole new perspective of it all. That first year he met, he was haunted by it, not just crushed under the weight of responsibility.

_"I'm not you. I'm not. I'm not strong like you. I never was."_

_"I told you I'm not the man you think I am. The things I've done — what I was about to do." Robert turns, taking a few steps away._

The original team now knows that this refers to the Undertaking. Moira, however, has a look of pure guilt on her face before she remembers to hide it. Oliver catches it, though. It's strange to think that even that hasn't happened for them yet. Tommy being alive, he supposes, is reminder enough.

_"Dad!" The word comes out broken as he steps towards him. "Dad." There's more authority in his voice this time. "What does that mean? Please. I don't know what it means."_

_He turns to face him again, finger pointed at him. "I told you — I begged you! Right my wrongs!" Oliver looks down, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "This is your responsibility now."_

_"How? How do I do this?" A brief smile without much humor graces his face. "I can't even get off this island."_

Moira's heart aches at the helplessness in that statement. This goes to show that while there were moments when she thought she was never getting her son back, her son thought he was never getting his mother back, or anything back, for that matter.

_Robert places his hands on his shoulders. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth about me but I hope that you know that I love you." Oliver gently nods._

_Oliver jolts awake, sweaty, heart thundering. Everything's the same as it was in the dream except his father isn't actually there. He tears a page from the notebook off but before it can burn in the fire, words begin to become apparent, names._

Moira schools her features the best she can, but she can't hide the twitching of her fingers. Malcolm had confronted her that the Hood had been talked out people on the List and she had been trying to figure out how the Hood had gotten his hands on the List. Now, she's seeing footage of her son being ordered to right his fathers wrongs along with being given the List — she's watching her husband give her son the responsibility of undoing the Undertaking.

_He grabs the entire notebook, holding it open above the heat of the flames, watching more names pop out, voice soft as the realization dawns on him. "My responsibility." He puts the notebook down. "I promise, dad. I promise."_

Moira turns to look back at Oliver, and when their gazes connect, Oliver seems to understand the realization she had. His heart rate picks up in his chest, focus turning back to the screen, because somehow that's easier to deal with. Sure, when his mother mentioned to him that she knew who he was before, she was incredibly supportive, but that was after the Undertaking had happened. The Undertaking hadn't happened yet.

_He's leaning up against the cave, awoken by his friend's arrival, but still clearly weak. "You not dead. Good." He places some supplies in the middle of the cave near Oliver._

_"Where the hell have you been? I ran out of food and water days ago."_

Thea can't imagine what it was like. Her and her brother always got everything they needed whenever they needed it, and suddenly, he's dying of hunger and thirst, things they never had to worry about.

_Oliver watches the other begin to retreat out of the cave once more. "H — hey! Where are you going!" He struggles to get to his feet before deciding that drinking the freshly brought water was a better use of his time and energy._

_That's when Fyers is brought in and thrown down in front of him. The two lock eyes. "You — " Oliver doesn't hesitate before punching him in the side of the face, the force of it throwing both of them to the ground. He scrambles, lunging for Fyers._

"That was satisfying." Dinah comments.

"Yeah, can't say I'm against that one." Rene adds. "Wouldn't say I'd be against it again."

_"Stop! Stop!" Yao Fei pulls them apart, causing Oliver to fall over backwards._

_"He's the one who tied me up and had me tortured! All because he was looking for you! He would have killed me if you didn't show up!"_

_The archer holds out a knife. "Then you kill him."_

"Christ!" Moira's horrified by the mere idea. Quentin leans forward. Queen has been there how long and now he has friends offering him up the idea of murder? He wasn't denying that there was a clear threat on this island, but murder of an unarmed man isn't the way to go about it.

_While anger still clearly holds Oliver, the words are enough to sober him up. "Or he can take you home."_

"How many times did you hear that?" Connor asked, drawing Oliver's attention. "You were gone for five years. He didn't take you home within the first weeks." The fact that Oliver doesn't answer makes Connor think he overstepped a line. His dad squeezes his shoulder.

_And what left needed to be sobered, that did the job. "What?"_

_Yao Fei crouches, pointing the knife at Fyers. "He has a plane. A way for you off this island."_

"I got my hopes up a lot." Oliver says it quietly, as if it's just intended for Connor, but it's still loud enough for the entire room to hear. Connor looks over to him, spotting an expression on his face that he's seen before at men working at Knightwatch. Although, he can't quite place what it is.

_The three of them trek through the thick brush, Yao Fei in front with Oliver uncomfortably holding the knife, keeping Fyers' interest through conversation. "You're a good man. I can see it. Well, beneath the privileged upbringing and the wealthy veneer. I saw it when my man tortured you and you wouldn't give up your friend. Not even a friend, really, someone you just met."_

_"Shut up." While Fyers is talking as if they're simply on a Sunday stroll, Oliver's tone of voice is much like a whisper._

_"What do you know about him? Nothing, I suspect. Do you even know what this island really is? It's a prison. I mean this literally. Until eight years ago, the Chinese military operated this island as a penitentiary for criminals deemed so dangerous, they couldn't be safely incarcerated on the mainland. When the military shut the program down, my unit came in and disposed of all the inmates. With the exception of two. Your friend was one of them."_

E-1 Laurel finds herself horrified more and more with every bit of information she learns. What had Oliver gotten himself into? And all just because of where his ship had gone down? Seeing him, hurt, scared — she couldn't help but feel like he wasn't ready at all for any of this. How could anyone be?

_Up until now, Oliver had mostly kept his gaze forward, but this caught his attention enough to fully stop Fyers from walking. "Who was the other?"_

_"You met him. He presided over your interrogation."_

_"He tortured me." There's emphasis on the words, showing that they have a clear disagreement on their description on what happened._

Thea looks down at the statement of fact. She remembers seeing Oliver's scars shortly after he returned, how she pushed him to talk, got irritated with him about how he didn't talk to her about what happened to him on the island. Now, she feels guilt about of it.

_"You had information I needed. What would you do in my position? What would you do to capture the man who slaughtered dozens of people?" Oliver spares a glance towards the very man that Fyers is throwing accusations at before shoving Fyers forward, getting him to walk again._

"Yao Fei isn't a — a cold-blooded murderer." William argued, looking to his father for confirmation.

"Sure looks like one to me." Quentin coldly remarks, bias still showing for the hooded archer.

"He's one of the good guys! He helped Ollie." Thea joins in.

_Finally, they reach their destination. Yao Fei pulls out a walkie-talkie. "Call your people. Tell them to bring the plane."_

_Fyers looks over, a smile on his face. "There's no need, Yao Fei. My people will be here shortly." Yao Fei scopes out their surroundings. "You don't think it convenient you captured me so easily?" At that, the man in the mask begins to out, flanked by Fyers' other men._

Rene groans. "I don't think I've mentioned enough how much I hate that guy."

Roy shakes his head. "I’ll back you up. He’s the worst."

_"Go!" Yao Fei yells as he reaches for an arrow. Fyers looks smug._

_Oliver, on the other hand, hasn't been paying the tiniest bit of attention. "What?"_

"No offense, Ollie, but — how did you survive five years on that island?” Thea looks over her shoulder to catch a glance of the other. She’s so happy he did survive, but seeing this and imagining her brother like he was — he didn’t have the traits of a soldier. He was her brother — her dumb, irresponsible brother.

“I — learned. Adapted, I guess.” Body language shows his discomfort. It is strange seeing how back then he could barely detect dangers right in front of him. Now, he can hear creaks in floorboards rooms over. He’s always on edge, always expecting an attack — he refuses to be caught off-guard.

Moira recalls the first night Oliver returned, how he was able to respond to what he deemed was a threat in a second. He went from asleep — restless but still asleep — to having her flat on her back in one quick move.

_"Run!" He gets the clue then. Seeing Yao Fei pull his hood up, spotting the man who tortured him — it's enough to spark a rush of adrenaline as the archer and masked man break out into a fight. Oliver tears through the forest as men fire at him, chasing after him. He manages to find a place to hide, and from that area, he watches with fear, Yao Fei get knocked unconscious and dragged away._

_Oliver, with unbelievable luck, manages to start a fire, knife stuck in the ground beside him, when he hears the rustling of nearby brush._

“Great job, boy scout. You gave away your position.” E-2 Laurel snarks. Oliver didn’t argue.

_Quickly, he puts the fire out and snatches the knife, running from view. A man adorning a balaclava speaks over a walkie-talkie, announcing his position and that he has contact._

_Meanwhile, hands shaking, Oliver stands hidden behind a tree. Pushed by survival, he jumps out at the man, but the soldier is quick to get the upper hand, pushing him against a tree. The two wrestle for a minute before they lose their footing, tumbling down a large, rocky hillside before they come to a stop at the bottom, the soldier’s spine snapping on impact when he hits a rock._

There’s a stillness in the room. Tommy looks down. Back then, he was so sloppy, scared, but it was all out of self-defense, wasn't it? How many more fear-based decisions did he have to make like that before he got to the place where he was today?

Meanwhile, Quentin takes in the information and realizes it means one thing — Queen lied on that polygraph to some capacity and he wants answers.

_Face down in the water, it takes a second for Oliver to come to, and when he does, he gasps for air. Hands desperately cling for dry land. He spots the dead body on the rock, a sort of horror and dread sitting in the pit of his stomach, as water drips down his face._

E-1 Laurel gazes over at her father, as if trying to communicate that Oliver did what he did to survive, to give him the benefit of the doubt beneath that negative bias he has for him.

_However, he makes a utilitarian use of his situation. He drags the body upon land and takes the soldier's gear before hiding the body upon the greenery. He's gentle with the body, delicately placing the man's arm as if he were readying it for burial before standing to his feet._

Mia, Connor, and William all exchange silent looks. They know Oliver now to have his policy that says never to kill, or rather, only when completely necessary. Even then, Oliver will try and find ways out of it. Did he have the same policy here? It wouldn’t be surprising. This Oliver doesn’t exactly look as if he’s on a rampage.

_He checks the gear, finding keys in one pocket and a map in another. After, he grabs the soldier's gun and puts his balaclava on his head._

_He begins walking through the forest, balaclava rolled up like a beanie, when he hears the sound of shouted talking. Panicked, he pulls it down over his face, back up against a tree, until he gathers his bearings and heads into the camp producing all the noise, gun under his arm._

“Oh, so you’ve always had a death wish,” Dinah commented, a playful smirk on her face. It’s interesting to see that Oliver’s bravery and resilience was always there, even when he had no skills to fall back on. He was willing to risk everything — some things never change.

“What backup was I supposed to wait on, Dinah?” Dinah rolled her eyes. Quentin and E-1 Laurel, however, turned their heads at the name to get a quick look at whoever else here had the name Dinah.

_Oliver walks towards the food line when a soldier talks to him in another language. Oliver stares at him blankly._

Felicity cups a hand around his jaw. “You’re cute when you’re confused.”

“My — my face is covered with a balaclava.” Though, Oliver can’t help the smile in the direction of his wife.

“But you’re always cute, so.” She stretches so she can plant a quick kiss on his lips.

_"Different day, same slop. You new?"_

_Oliver's eyes frantically look around. "Yeah."_

_"Don't worry. It took me a year to find my way around the island."_

_The man begins to walk off when Oliver calls out to get his attention. He turns around. "I'm supposed to be transporting a prisoner. Chinese guy. Wears a green hood."_

Laurel hears the description and shifts in her seat uncomfortably at the sudden _a-ha!_ moment that struck. It would explain some things, like why the Hood was always there for her — as if he knew her personally. But if Oliver is the Hood, that's implying that Oliver has become — what? She tries to shake the thought away, sure that there's more than one green hood in the world.

_"Sounds like the guy they took the East Camp. I'm heading over that way. Come on, you can hitch a ride." Oliver hesitates. "Let's go, c'mon!" Oliver puts down the tray of food with hesitation, gazing at it for a moment before getting into the passengers seat of the vehicle._

_As soon as he sits down, he hears Fyers' voice. "Hold up, hold up!" He's using a walking stick. "Unit one, two!" Fyers climbs in the back and the car sets off._

"I'm tense and I'm not even there." John comments. He knows this isn't going to end well.

_"Were you stationed by the perimeter?"_

_Oliver keeps his gaze forward. "Yes."_

_"And your report?"_

_"Uh, everything's good, sir. No trouble."_

_Fyer's gaze keeps coming back to him. "How long have you been stationed here?"_

_"Uh, just arrived, sir."_

_"Yes, you do seem rather green. Though, I don't recall a submarine bringing in a phalanx of new troops lately."_

_There's hesitation before Oliver answers, deep thought. "Submarine? I thought everybody came into the island on the plane."_

_Fyers throws him another look, tone of voice offensively casual. "Indeed they do."_

Connor looks towards his father. "He knows." The way he spoke, the way he focused only on him. He couldn't shake the feeling.

_Eventually, they reached the East Camp where they held the prisoners. Oliver walked with Fyers behind him, eyes trained on the cages, trying to scope out which one was holding Yao Fei._

Felicity's brow is furrowed. There's something familiar about the cages that she can't quite place.

_"See, this is where we, uh, detain prisoners prone to running off before I've finished with them." Oliver turns to Fyers only to be hit with the walking stick, hard enough to knock him to the ground and pull out a yell of surprise._

Thea can't help but wince. They've barely made a dent into her brother's five year stay and all she wants is for it to be over. She wants to find out that they somehow stopped this Fyers guy and, even though he was marooned for years afterwards, it was smooth sailing. 

_He coughs and gasps, blood collecting at a split in his lip as Fyers' unmasks him. "Prisoners like you, Mr. Queen." A moment later, he's unconscious._

_He's woken up by the same walking stick, this time banging against the cage he's currently leaning against. His body jolts awake, wrist handcuffed to the cage, mind foggy._

Felicity suddenly sits up straight, leaning over to Oliver to voice her realization. "Those were the cages Adrian held us in — me, Curtis, Thea, and.. Samantha." Oliver confirms her statement with a nod. His past really did have a way of sneaking its way into every detail.

_"Do you know why my men wear balaclavas, Mr. Queen?" As he comes to, he jerks his handcuffed wrist. "Because it masks everything but the eyes." Fyers looks him directly in the eyes through the bars, that same smug look on his face. "In a man's eyes, one can always find the truth. You risked everything to save your friend. Someone I warned you about, and yet you trusted him. But that trust was misplaced."_

_Oliver looks over the solider beside Fyers as he unmasks himself to see Yao Fei, expression untelling._

Quentin feels a strange success about being right — you can't trust anyone who wears a hood, whether this Yao Fei character ends up being the Hood or ends up being Queen's inspiration for his own reign. The detective stands quickly, staring Oliver down. "Can I talk to you?"

By now, mostly everyone either knew Oliver was the Green Arrow, or rather, the Hood, or had their suspicions, so Detective Lance asking to talk to Oliver — it wasn't a stretch to assume what the topic was going to be about. Oliver rests a hand on Felicity's shoulder when she moves to respond on his behalf. "Yeah, yeah." He stands, following the detective out of the room. As he does so, he catches his mother's worried gaze. He does his best to reassure her with a smile, but he's not sure how well he does. In fact, he's not even sure he convinces himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> & THERE WE GO, things r heating up. hope u guys have been doing well & enjoy the new chapter!!


	7. Chapter 7

Oliver wasn't afraid of this conversation. He realized that there was no way Quentin could bring proof back to his present from this room. Additionally, Oliver was driven to make Quentin trust him, even with the knowledge it was going to take some time. So, when he finds himself alone with the detective, he decides then that he's going to stay calm. He's not going to get defensive. He's going to let the man get whatever he wants out of his system.

"So, Oliver Queen," the detective sneers, "you're the Hood."

"Yes." Quentin looks a bit taken aback by his abrupt honesty. He realizes then that it's probably because he still wasn't one hundred percent sure. Looking at it from a deductive point of view, so far Oliver hadn't shown any Hood-like skills nor had he worn the attire. It was just incriminating and circumstantial evidence. He would have found out for sure eventually, anyway. Besides, he's had the suspicion long enough.

"Is what we're being shown what actually happened on that island?"

It's a fair enough question. He was the only one there. He never occurred to him that it wouldn't be seen as true, but if someone were to doubt it, it would be Quentin, wouldn't it? "Yes."

"When exactly did those events turn you into a cold-blooded killer," Oliver glares at him, huffing, "Mr. Queen?"

Oliver did his best to keep a level head. He's been provoked enough in his lifetime that this isn't new. The issue, however, is that he doesn't want to go spouting his entire life story to the detective — he's just denying the inevitable, he supposes, but there's a time and a place. "What you've seen so far.. I did what I did there to survive."

"Maybe so, but you don't have to do that to survive anymore. In fact, you'd be a lot safer not putting on an outfit and playing hero every night."

Oliver's response is quick, automatic. "I — am not a hero." He's not sure where the admission came from. Maybe the old feelings of guilt being drudged back up, that familiar darkness.

Either way, his answer seems to intrigue Quentin. "What are you then? Other than — a vigilante?" Quentin so badly wants these questions answered. He's dedicated so many hours towards trying to catch him, the Hood, when he's been under his nose the entire time, so Oliver understands the frustration, the curiosity. "What would you call what you do?"

Oliver pauses, careful. This is the answer that could sway Quentin more towards trusting him — all he has to do is say the right thing, but what is that? The Hood has told Quentin time and time again that all he wants is to save the city, help people. Now, Oliver also has to deal with Quentin's personal issues with Oliver himself stacking up against his dislike for the Hood. "I hurt people." He thinks back to how he would do things the first year. Quentin squints his eyes at him. "And sometimes, when necessary, I take the extra measure."

"So, you're not a hero. And you're a murderer." Quentin states, staring at the other curiously. "These are both things you've said. Not me."

"I know, and the lives that I took — I can't take that back. I have to live with that. But that’s not how I do things anymore — I changed. I lost someone, someone.. very close to me, and he died thinking of me the exact same way you do." He thinks of Tommy, innocent, bloody. "He found out what I did and hated me for it, branded me a cold-blooded murderer, and.. he ended up dying. It was then that I realized I didn't want to continue doing things the way I was doing them, that I had to honor him, and — " He exhales. "I know you have no respect for what I do, but you and I have the same goal: protect this city and the people in it. We don't have to be at each other's throats."

Quentin nods thoughtfully. "That's fine and dandy, Mr. Queen, but when exactly did all this happen? Last I checked, you were still killing people, or did you think that just because we've been beamed to some magical movie theater you can spin stories and I'll believe anything?"

Oliver knows it's a long shot, but he has to try. "Can you trust me on this?"

There's not even a pause in his answer. "I trust the crime scenes you leave behind, Mr. Queen. That means I trust the bodies. I trust the people you've crippled. The bodies in the hospital, the morgue. My tune isn't going to change because I found out things I already knew which is that you were changed on that island. When you can give me proof that you've changed again, changed for the better as you seem to say, then we'll talk." And with that, Oliver watches the detective make his exit, leaving the archer feeling much worse about the situation than before the conversation. He props his hands on his hips, bowing his head with a weighted exhale. This wasn't going to be easy.

* * *

Thea straightens out her clothes as she stands, prepping herself for a moment before she walks to a group of three unfamiliar faces. She had met Felicity and Diggle, but the rest were new to her. She had gathered that they were Ollie's friends, and if they were his friends, she should at least introduce herself. After all, it's a good distraction to the fact that her brother is getting questioned by Detective Lance. "Hi, I'm Thea," she begins, eyes gazing over the small group. There was a blonde with unruly, curly hair. She had a fiery, untamed look to her. There was a man with dark skin standing to her right, looking much more subdued than the blonde. Lastly, there was a brunet on the blonde’s right, staring at her with an expression she can’t quite place — her gut says it’s one of recognition, but that can’t be. She’s never seen him.

The other boy is the first to speak. “I’m Connor. That’s William,” he refers to the brunet who is just beginning to not look as if he saw a ghost, “and — ”

“I’m Mia,” the blonde interrupts.

“Nice to — nice to meet you, Thea.” William adds.

“You, too — I’ve never seen you around. Where did you and my brother meet?”

The three exchange quick glances before William breaks the silence with a fabricated story. “I work in the IT department at Queen Consolidated. I’m friends with Felicity. When he and Felicity got close, I started dropping by, as well.” Thea nods, buying the story so far.

“It’s good to know my brother does have a social life. What about you two?”

William picks right back up. “Mia is my sister and Connor is my — boyfriend.” William can feel Connor’s eyes on him, hear Mia’s muffled snickers, but he doesn’t stop looking at Thea nor does he stop pushing forward.

“Aw, that’s so sweet! It’s so cool that you three have your own — group. So close knit, too.” They all silently nodded, ignoring the obvious flaws in that statement such as William had just joined the group and Connor had been withholding truckloads worth of information from them both. But that makes things confusing for an IT guy, his sister, and his boyfriend, so never mind.

Mia, with a smirk on her face, looks at her brother before letting her gaze fall on Connor. “You should tell Thea the story of when you two met.” She can tell Connor is going to kill her after this. “I love that story — William, get him to tell it. He always tells it better than you.”

Thea looks between the three curiously, trying to piece together what was going on by their giggles and stares. She wrote it off as them just having fun. “You — you don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable. In fact, I should probably be getting back soon. I would love to hang out with you guys later, though.” Thea grins, freeing Connor from the pressure of having to tell whatever story. She dismisses herself with a wave before walking back towards her seat.

“Your boyfriend? Really? You couldn’t have just said friend?” Connor deadpans once Thea is far enough away.

“I panicked!” William defends, hands up in the air. Mia lets a laugh fully escape her now, not trying to hold it in anymore.

“You managed to keep your cool spinning stories on missions where your life was in danger, but you panicked when — ” Connor scoffs, shaking his head.

“She’s my aunt!” William responds, force behind his voice, but there’s a small smile when he speaks. He can’t deny how funny all of this has been. “Our lives are weird! I’m permitted to panic when I see my aunt from the past!”

“Okay, you two, let’s put this lover’s quarrel to bed,” Mia is barely holding back another laugh.

* * *

Tommy knew that those five years on the island were where whatever had happened. He didn’t know any of the details, because he never gave Oliver the chance to explain himself, convinced that if Oliver had lied to him for so long, what would make him tell the truth now? He was angry — rightfully so. His best friend killed people in the shadow of darkness and he was supposed to be okay with that. He spots Quentin walk back into the room and begins to make his way over, interested in cutting Oliver off. Quentin eyes him curiously as he passes him, but he presses on. He catches Oliver's gaze with his own and grabs the man by the arm. Before Tommy has a chance to start, Oliver cuts him off. "Not right now, okay?"

Tommy looks him over. This Oliver is so much different than the Oliver he saw last. He's older, considerably more muscled, and even less familiar, if possible, and his eyes - the two of them may be going through it right now, but Tommy still grew up with him, he can recognize the exhaustion in his eyes, the pain. There was a time when he Oliver would come to him with this sort of thing. Now, he's turning to people he doesn't recognize or his driver. Not that he cares, he reminds himself. He doesn't want the vigilante in his life. He steels himself, straightening his spine to appear taller. "No, Oliver, now." His tone is demanding, even if it is a bit quiet. He watches him debate whether or not to go along with it. As much as Tommy hates to admit it, he's powerless against his final decision. If he really doesn't want to, he could just walk away.

After what feels like an eternity, Oliver switches the roles, now grabbing Tommy and pulling him further aside, but not quite out of the room. "What is it, Tommy?" He can tell he's trying to be forceful, but there's a gentleness there, a softness. He's refusing to look him in the eyes.

"Everyone knows now, Oliver, or - they're figuring it out." Oliver lifts his gaze, waiting for him to continue. He's clearly stressed by the situation. Tommy worked hard to make sure that Oliver's secret stayed a secret, and he can see now how much of a toll that it took on him to do the same, and now it's all crumbling down around him. As soon as whatever this is ends, it's likely that he's going to prison. His family knows. Laurel knows. He looks over his shoulder to where she sits and spots her quickly look away - she had been staring at the two of them. "What are you going to do about it?"

Oliver takes a minute to process what Tommy says, making sure he heard him correctly. He rubs a hand over his face, taking a deep breath, thinking for a moment, exhaling. "Convince them to keep the secret."

Tommy gives him a look, a look of utter disbelief, followed by laughter. "Keep the - you're going to get Detective Lance to keep your secret? You do remember he hates you, right?"

"You hate me, and you haven't told anyone."

The response is quick. Tommy's lingering smile from the laughter falls. He looks down, trying to find the rhythm of the conversation again. For a moment, he forgot he hated Oliver, or rather, the vigilante, what Oliver did, what he stood for now. For a moment, he was bantering with his best friend. But he knows that's foolish, because there's always that voice in the back of his head now, that anger, that jealousy over how he knows Laurel would choose him. "That's different, Oliver."

"Look, Tommy - I'll figure it out. I always have." Oliver gives him a smile and Tommy can tell it's forced. "It's not the first time Detective Lance has wanted to arrest me, right?" Oliver leaves him and he watches as he heads towards the back of the room, back where he had been sitting the whole time. He sits in between that blonde, Felicity, and another blonde that he doesn't recognize. Tommy scoffs to himself. Of course he'd choose them over his mother, his sister - his actual family. Why should Tommy expect him to ever prioritize Oliver Queen over the Hood?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it's been a long time! this semester has been super tough! i still have a couple weeks left, but when i get out, i plan to start getting back into this slowly :) until then, i hope this is good enough!


	8. Chapter 8

_Later that night, as Oliver sits in the cage, Yao Fei stops in front of the bars as he's walking past. There's hurt and anger in Oliver's stare as they lock their gazes. "You're working for them now?" The other is unresponsive. "Why are you doing this to me? I thought we were friends. Or," he sounds as if he's given up, "something."_

Rene doesn't say it out loud, but he supposes seeing this footage would have helped when he, Dinah, and Curtis had pitted themselves against Oliver, Felicity, and Dig. Then again, they all might have still been way too angry to even consider it, but if this is going where he thinks it's going, the next five years are going to be a continued pattern of betrayed trust. Anyone would come out of that with a hefty bag of trust issues. Does that make it okay to spy on your friends? No, but at least this helps it make sense.

_Yao Fei continues to simply stare. "I mean, why'd you bother keeping me safe if you were just going to hand me over to them?" His breaths are visible from the puffs of warm air against the frosty night atmosphere. "Just get me out of here."_

_Finally, Yao Fei speaks up, placing a cup of water down for Oliver as he does. "I can't." He turns and walks away._

_Immediately, Oliver bites back, a hand grasping onto the cage. "Hey! Don't leave me here. I came back for you! Do you hear me? I came back for_ you _!" There's emphasis on the last word as he shoves the cup of water off from where it sat, falling back into the corner of the cage._

Thea feels hurt as she watches the screen. She vouched for Yao Fei to Quentin just minutes before, and now he was betraying Oliver. She could tell that Detective Lance was at least a little proud of himself for calling it, but she still didn't want to believe that Yao Fei was all bad. After all, how could Oliver have survived all alone? His only friend having turned on him?

_Yao Fei shoves Oliver forward, eliciting a small stumble from him. "I'm out of the cage now, huh? What's going on?" Oliver looks back at his former friend in question, only receiving a shove in response. "Are we getting out of here? Where are you taking me?"_

Thea sits up straighter for a moment, hopeful that Yao Fei would do the right thing. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Laurel exhibiting a similar reaction.

_He's met with the sight of men in a circle and the sound of grunting, flesh meeting flesh. As he gets closer, he sees the man who tortured him relentlessly beating another man, the crowd cheering him on until the man was beaten to a state of near-death in front of them all._

"It's a fight," Mia mutters, watching the brutality with a trained perspective on it all, but even then, she can't fight back the slight wince at the extreme violence. In the cage fights back home, she has no problem, because they're balanced. People know what they're getting into. This, however, doesn't look like a choice for one of the participants and it's not an even fight by any means.

"No, that was an execution," William murmurs back. Oliver gives him a side glance at the description.

"He didn't have a chance," Connor confirms.

_A couple soldiers drag the man's beaten body out from the ring as Fyers tries to round up a new contestant. "While I admit that bout was particularly one-sided, would anybody else like to give it a try?" Yao Fei shoves Oliver into the ring. The masked man immediately locks his gaze with Oliver._

"That dude did see what just happened, right?" Tommy squawks. "I take it back. I don't like him anymore. His one-liners aren’t worth shoving people into their deaths." Oliver smiles slightly. It's good to know that even if he's holding onto anger, or rather, an entire cocktail of emotions, he's still able to crack jokes. He's still able to be Tommy. 

_"The point of these little gladiatorial distractions is to strengthen unit cohesion. To that end, I think our newest recruit ought to be afforded the opportunity to try his hand." Oliver looks back at Yeo Fei as Fyers announces this to the group. Yao Fei steps into the ring._

"He did," John cuts in, "and I think it's part of a plan." He looks at Oliver, trying to gain confirmation. He knows that Yao Fei ends up being someone that Oliver regards highly, so he couldn't have just turned on him. There has to be more to it.

Once more, Thea and Laurel perk up, much to Quentin's dismay. The detective just wants to dismiss the archer, write him off as some evil guy and call it a day. Why does everything in Oliver Queen's life have to be so complicated? Why can't it just be straight forward?

_Yao Fei lands a quick punch to Oliver's face, forcing him to the ground. He stumbles to him feet only to be met with a kick to the chest and then to the side of the head. Cheers erupt from the soldiers. The beating continues like this, getting more and more harsh, but Oliver keeps getting up. Eventually, Yao Fei gets Oliver into a choke hold where he goes limp and is dropped to the ground._

Moira, eyes wide and teary, try to process the scene. "Oh my God." Her son is sitting behind her — her son came home, but she just watched him die. How is that possible?

John, with an entirely different mood, laughs a short laugh and shakes his head, arms folded across his chest. "Now I know where he learned that from." The comment earns him a few stares and raised eyebrows, especially considering his timing. He returns an amused shrug in response — enough of Oliver’s stories are being spilled.

_Oliver's body is on a ledge overlooking a waterfall and body of water. A soldier is getting ready to push it in when Yao Fei interjects. "Wait. I'll do it." Fyers motions over to the body with his head. Yao Fei kneels next to Oliver's body and pushes it off._

“What? His plan is to —” Watching the man push her brother into a body of water from a cliff edge wasn’t anywhere near her mind when she thought Yao Fei was cooking something up.

“The Hood, then and now, doesn’t seem to have qualms about casualties.” Quentin remarks. He’s aware it’s supposed to a rescue mission at this point, and from the fact that Oliver is in the room with him, he knows it had to be successful on some front, but he couldn’t have done it any less violently?

“This way Fyers and his men thinks he’s dead.” Mia interjects. “Sounds like a positive to me.” She was rarely the brains behind the operations but risky ideas like that are her forte.

_His body falls, falls, falls, falls, and hits the water with a splash. He sinks a little, a few moments pass, and then suddenly he's up, gasping for air, desperately coughing and swimming towards land. Once he reaches the shore, the first thing he does is grab the map from his pockets. The map has been drawn on. It has a red line from his location to a new one with **shengcún** written by it._

_He recalls the only explanation he can think of. Yao Fei gave him the map and, somehow, Yao Fei woke him up — or maybe it was his body’s physical reaction after beginning to drown. He looks back down at the map, still out of breath. " **Shengcún**." His voice is strained, words split by a gasp for air. "Survive."_

“See!” Thea grins, a bit cocky. She’s happy to find not everyone on the island eventually betrayed or tried to hurt her brother — sticking one to Quentin doesn’t hurt either.

_He finally finds the strength in himself to get to his feet and begins walking in the direction that the map asked of him. He does this until he comes across the wreckage of a plane. He peaks his head in before stepping inside. A man suddenly drops from the ceiling, holding a sword to his throat. Oliver's breath quickens. "Twitch, and I will open your throat. How many more with you?"_

“Oh,” Felicity blinks, “that’s an entrance.” She, along with the rest of those in the room that has had experience with the man after he came searching for Oliver, are quite intrigued with what he was like before everything.

Laurel processes the scene. “Wait, why did Yao Fei send you to someone who..” Quentin bites his tongue, and Laurel’s grateful. She can only take so much. “You needed an ally not — this.” Oliver stays quiet. It’ll all get explained soon enough.

_"What?" There's evident fear in his voice._

_The man's grip tightens on Oliver's throat. Oliver's eyes shut. "You have ten seconds to tell me something I believe before I cut out your voice box."_

_"Wait, wait, wait." Oliver tries his best to speak through the man choking him. "Yao Fei sent me here, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't so you could kill me."_

_The man throws him forward, machete still pointed at him. "What?"_

“‘What?’” E-2 Laurel parrots, clearly making fun of his response. “Imagine how much clearer communication could have been if he hadn’t cut off what you needed to communicate.”

_Oliver spares a glance to the blade an inch from his nose. "Yeo Fei. He gave me directions to your," he looks around, "plane." There's a tense moment between the two, Oliver doing his best to mask his fear._

_The man looks over the map Oliver provided, sword still in hand. " **Shengcún**."_

_"It's Chinese. It means sur-"_

_Oliver's quiet comment is cut off by a much more confident one. "Survive."_

_Oliver looks at him, as if trying to figure out what sort of man Yao Fei sent him to. "What do you think he meant, besides not getting killed?"_

_"There's an airfield ten clicks from here. It's key off this island. Yao Fei and I had been observing it for months, familiarizing ourselves with their operations. We were supposed to get off this island together. But then Yao Fei was compromised, and we were separated." The man opens a box, pulling out a blade and tossing it into Oliver's arms._

_Oliver looks at the man, confused. "What's this for?"_

_"I think Yao Fei sent you becaue he knows I cannot take the airstrip alone."_

“An entirely fleshed out plan. Why is something telling me, in Oliver Queen fashion, something went wrong?” Roy teases. Oliver rolls his eyes but can't help the creeping smile.

_There's a shake of his head, unbelief in his voice. "Sounds like Yao Fei."_

_"He is a softer judge of character than I am." The two lock eyes. "If you're going to have my back, I need to know you can cover it."_

_Without any warning, the man pulls his own blade on Oliver. Clumsily, he blocks the the attacks. When the two blades are pressed up against each other, the man quickly does a move which maneuvers his own blade up against Oliver's throat. Oliver stands there, staring at him. "What are you doing? Fight back."_

E-2 Laurel laughs slightly, only speaking up when she gets a few glances. "The idea of that Oliver thinking he can win in a fight. Any fight." She can't deny that he knows how to fight now.

_Oliver pushes his arm back, swinging his own weapon at the other, but it's easily dodged. The man manages to get a hit in and Oliver grunts, leaning over as he's circled. "Keep your blade up. Always stay behind your sword."_

_The playboy goes for another hit, but with ease, he's shoved into a stack of crates. "You have no skill. No strength." Oliver pushes himself back up to his feet. "No training." The Aussie rushes him, getting right up in his face. "To say you fight like a girl would be a compliment."_

Rene sucks in a breath. "Harsh assessment, hoss." He looks over to Oliver, a teasing glint in his eye, ready to push his luck. "So, is this where you learned to be a hard ass from? Or was it someone else?"

"I can still beat you in a fight," Oliver reminds him, and while he's teasing, too, it puts Rene in his place.

_Oliver swallows, looking him in the eyes. "I told you — I'm not a soldier. I was shipwrecked here. I killed the guy that was wearing this uniform by accident."_

_The reminder that Oliver had to kill anyone at all leaves Moira's stomach churning. She thinks to years back, the way her son used to act. Stupid, reckless, sure — but he was carefree, as well. There was a lightness to him that isn't there anymore, and now she knows why, exactly why._

_With a challenging look in his eyes, the man stares back. "Where was Yao Fei?"_

_"He told me to run, and I did." There's a moment of silence before the Aussie brings his hand up, knocking Oliver out with his fist._

"Geez, man, how many times did you get knocked out during those five years?" John asks, equal part joke and sincerity. Oliver doesn't answer simply because how was he supposed to know? Quite obviously a lot.

_Head aching, Oliver slowly wakes up, hands bound behind him, body sat in a chair. The man who knocked him out is standing on the other side of the wrecked plane. He takes a quick swig from a bottle. "Sorry," he comments as Oliver begins to struggle, "it's nothing personal. The airstrip is a very heavily fortified position." He walks toward Oliver. "I've been there, and I cannot take it on my own." Now, right in front of the chair he's bound to, he pulls out one of his swords from the sheathe on his back._

"It's nothing personal!" Moira cries, affronted by the idea. "That — this most definitely is personal!"

Oliver, as much as he can, flinches back from the movement. "So — so, what? Huh? You're just going to kill me?" Slade places the blade against his neck and Oliver lets out a noise of discomfort, fear.

"Like I said, it's nothing personal."

Moira makes a noise again but holds her tongue. The idea that her son went through trauma is enough, but the fact that the people who inflicted it did it with such ease and then made claims like that? It makes her blood boil. 

_Oliver desperately pulls at the ropes binding his wrists, hands shaking. "But if you're alive, they will find you," contrasting the Aussie's stoic appearance, Oliver is radiating a sort of frantic fear, "and if they find you, they will torture you until you give up my location, and I cannot allow for that to happen."_

As much as Mia hates to watch what's occurring, she can't argue with the older man's way of thinking, not entirely. At this point, her dad is some dumb billionaire playboy who is sticking his nose in things. He just needed to tie up loose ends. Her eyebrows come together as she thinks about it — would she ever do this? Back home, in 2040, when she was her more hardened?

_The blade is pulled away, and the second it is, Oliver jumps up to his feet, pleading. "Hey, don't — wait! No, please don't do this, alright? I'm not going to say anything to them —" By now, he sounds as if he's on the verge of tears, and that's when he's roughly shoved back into the chair by the man, eliciting a pained grunt from the boy. He's drawing in quick breaths as he fidgets even more with the ropes._

_"Don't make it more difficult upon yourself. I can do this in a way that you will not feel it at all." At this, Oliver makes one last ditch effort, yanking his hands through the ropes with a sickening snap. Pain radiates from his thumb as he keels forward, shouting out in pain. He gives himself a few seconds to catch his breath before weakly standing, easing his hands the rest of the way through._

Even Quentin flinches at that, nose crinkling as he tries to figure out exactly what Oliver did to set himself free. Obviously, it hurt. Tommy, however, is the one to speak up. "Did he break his own hand?" He turns to face Oliver, expression wild. "Did you break your own hand?"

Oliver knows it isn't as extreme as breaking his hand. It honestly isn't even that similar, but he also doesn't really feel like going that deep into it, so he gives a short answer of, "Dislocation," while wiggling his thumb and hopes it'll be enough. William gives him a knowing look.

_The man still stands there, staring at him, as if evaluating him. That's when Oliver manages to get his hands entirely loose and swings his right hand forward, punching the other straight in the jaw. Unfortunately, it's not as effective as he would have wanted it to be since the man, after only a couple moments, grabs Oliver by the scruff of his shirt, ignoring his cry of pain, laughing in his face._

_After a second, he unhands him, lowering it in order to shake Oliver's hand. "Slade Wilson."_

Mia, Connor, and William all look back and forth at the name — Wilson. 

_Oliver accepts the handshake, voice still strained. "Oliver Queen."_

_"Well, Oliver Queen," the handshake remains firm between them, "there might be a fighter inside of you after all."_

"Oh, I'm glad nearly murdering you is all he had to do to prove it," Felicity sassed.

_The two sit across from each other within the light of a campfire. Oliver's injured hand rests in a sling. "You know, this does not change anything between you and I. It takes two men to take the air field, and if you compromise my getting off this island, I will kill you. You've had your second chance."_

_"You need me just as much as I need you." Slade quietly laughs at this. "So, what's our next step?"_

_"Turning you into something that won't get us both killed." His focus remains forward, set on the playboy in front of him as his hand refers to his box of weapons and gear. "Choose a weapon."_

_Oliver, clearly exhausted, squints his eyes in disbelief, still cradling his injured hand. "We're starting now?"_

"Missed sleeping until the afternoon?" Thea teases, finding humor to be the only way to get through this.

"At that point, I missed sleeping." The sort of exhaustion he faced while on the island is like no other he's ever dealt with.

_Slade leans forward from where he's sitting, expression all the proof Oliver needed in that he wasn't playing around. He gives in, slowly standing and heading over to the crate where he spots a two-colored mask like the one the man who tortured him wore. He hesitantly picks it up._

_Slade stands up from behind him, a grin on his face. "That's mine."_

Mia, Connor, and William all look back and forth with each other again. It's interesting to see the origin of the Deathstrokes go so far back.

_Mask still grasped in his hand, he faces off Slade, voice gruff. "You're the lunatic who tortured me."_

"Yao Fei wouldn't send you to him." Laurel protested.

" _No, that was another guy." His tone is calm, extremely so compared to Oliver's._

_"Bull!"_

_"This mask, it's my operational equivalent to a balaclava. My partner and I wore them to keep our identities classified during our missions."_

_Once again, emotion gets the better of him. All the adrenaline, fear, betrayal. His voice is shaky, eyes wet. "You're lying. Fyers told me this nutcase is a prisoner on the island."_

It's strange to see Oliver get so worked up and so often, John thinks. Not that his reasons for doing so aren't valid reasons, but Oliver has gotten so much better at masking his emotions until they come out inappropriately or simply become too much. He assumes one of the reasons it hurts to see his friend like this so much is because it's such a drastic difference than what he's used to, all the emotion.

_"And Fyers is such a trustworthy individual?" Oliver swallows, not moving from his position. "He lied to you. My partner and I came here to free Yao Fei and get him off this island. We're A.S.I.S. Australian Intelligence."_

"An actual official government agency," Tommy muttered, trying to soak it all in.

_Oliver continues to stare, jaw set. "Now. You are going to find yourself a weapon." He points to the case with his blade, a smile now on his face. "Have you considered a sword? I like swords."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i still have a week or so left of classes so it might be a little while before the next update, but i just wanted to get a second one out there so you guys know i didn't just post one & then abandon it again lol
> 
> but also! i know the kids know a good bit about the deathstrokes but just bc i don't feel like going thru everything ahah for the sake of stuff, they probs only know vague stuff abt slade & his son? classified info & all. at the very least they don't know this bc it's the island but ANYWAY


End file.
